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 thinking how natural it was to predict danger, and how likely to have the prediction verified in the present instance, when various signs gave evidence of a lurking foe.

The various bands of Captain Bonneville’s company had now been assembled for some time at the rendezvous; they had had their fill of feasting, and frolicking, and all the species of wild and often uncouth merrymaking, which invariably take place on these occasions.  Their horses, as well as themselves, had recovered from past famine and fatigue, and were again fit for active service; and an impatience began to manifest itself among the men once more to take the field, and set off on some wandering expedition.

At this juncture M. Cerre arrived at the rendezvous at the head of a supply party, bringing goods and equipments from the States.  This active leader, it will be recollected, had embarked the year previously in skin-boats on the Bighorn, freighted with the year’s collection of peltries.  He had met with misfortune in the course of his voyage:  one of his frail barks being upset, and part of the furs lost or damaged.