Chapter 40 - Page 2

appeared with a

gloomy countenance. His mind was full of dismal presentiments,

whether from mysterious dreams, or the intimations of the

medicine wolf, does not appear. "Danger," he said, "was lurking

in their path, and there would be some fighting before sunset."

He was bantered for his prophecy, which was attributed to his

having supped too heartily, and been visited by bad dreams. In

the course of the morning a party of hunters set out in pursuit

of buffaloes, taking with them a mule, to bring home the meat

they should procure. They had been some few hours absent, when

they came clattering at full speed into camp, giving the war cry

of Blackfeet! Blackfeet! Every one seized his weapon and ran to

learn the cause of the alarm. It appeared that the hunters, as

they were returning leisurely, leading their mule well laden with

prime pieces of buffalo meat, passed close by a small stream

overhung with trees, about two miles from the camp. Suddenly a

party of Blackfeet, who lay in ambush along the thickets, sprang

up with a fearful yell, and discharged a volley at the hunters.

The latter immediately threw themselves flat on their horses, put

them to their speed, and never paused to look behind, until they

found themselves in camp. Fortunately they had escaped without a

wound; but the mule, with all the "provant," had fallen into the

hands of the enemy This was a loss, as well as an insult, not to

be borne. Every man sprang to horse, and with rifle in hand,

galloped off to punish the Blackfeet, and rescue the buffalo

beef. They came too late; the marauders were off, and all that

they found of their mule was the dents of his hoofs, as he had

been conveyed off at a round trot, bearing his savory cargo to

the hills, to furnish the scampering savages with a banquet of

roast meat at the expense of the white men.

The party returned to camp, balked of their revenge, but still

more grievously balked of their supper. Buckeye, the Delaware,

sat smoking by his fire, perfectly composed. As the hunters

related the particulars of the attack, he listened in silence,

with unruffled countenance, then pointing to the west, "the sun

has not yet set," said he: "Buckeye did not dream like a fool!"

All present now recollected the prediction of the Indian at

daybreak, and were struck with what appeared to be its

fulfilment. They called to mind, also, a long catalogue of

foregone presentiments and predictions made at various times by

the Delaware, and, in their superstitious credulity, began to

consider him a veritable seer; without