In the course of conversation, the Indian informed them that the route by which Mr. Hunt had crossed the Rocky Mountains was very bad and circuitous, and that he knew one much shorter and easier.  Mr. Stuart urged him to accompany them as guide, promising to reward him with a pistol with powder and ball, a knife, an awl, some blue beads, a blanket, and a looking-glass.  Such a catalogue of riches was too tempting to be resisted; besides the poor Snake languished after the prairies; he was tired, he said, of salmon, and longed for buffalo meat, and to have a grand buffalo hunt beyond the mountains.  He departed, therefore, with all speed, to get his arms and equipments for the journey, promising to rejoin the party the next day.  He kept his word, and, as he no longer said anything to Mr. Stuart on the subject of the pet horse, they journeyed very harmoniously together; though now and then, the Snake would regard his quondam steed with a wistful eye.

They had not travelled many miles, when they came to a great bend in the river.  Here the Snake informed them that, by cutting across the hills they would save many miles of distance.  The route across, however, would be a good day’s journey.  He advised them, therefore, to encamp here for the night, and set off early in the morning.  They took his advice, though they had come but nine miles that day.

On the following morning they rose, bright and early, to ascend the hills.  On mustering their little party, the guide was missing.  They supposed him to be somewhere in the neighborhood, and proceeded to collect the horses.  The vaunted steed of Mr. Stuart was not to be found.  A suspicion flashed upon his mind.  Search for the horse of the Snake!  He likewise was gone—­the tracks of two horses, one after the other, were found, making off from the camp.  They appeared as if one horse had been mounted, and the other led.  They were traced for a few miles above the camp, until they both crossed the river.  It was plain the Snake had taken an Indian mode of recovering his horse, having quietly decamped with him in the night.

New vows were made never more to trust in Snakes, or any other Indians.  It was determined, also, to maintain, hereafter, the strictest vigilance over their horses, dividing the night into three watches, and one person mounting guard at a time.  They resolved, also, to keep along the river, instead of taking the short cut recommended by the fugitive Snake, whom they now set down for a thorough deceiver.  The heat of the weather was oppressive, and their horses were, at times, rendered almost frantic by the stings of the prairie flies.  The nights were suffocating, and it was almost impossible to sleep, from the swarms of mosquitoes.