In the meantime, an express had been sent off to the rendezvous for reinforcements.  Captain Sublette, and his associate, Campbell, were at their camp when the express came galloping across the plain, waving his cap, and giving the alarm; “Blackfeet!  Blackfeet! a fight in the upper part of the valley!—­to arms! to arms!”

The alarm was passed from camp to camp.  It was a common cause.  Every one turned out with horse and rifle.  The Nez Perces and Flatheads joined.  As fast as horseman could arm and mount he galloped off; the valley was soon alive with white men and red men scouring at full speed.

Sublette ordered his men to keep to the camp, being recruits from St. Louis, and unused to Indian warfare.  He and his friend Campbell prepared for action.  Throwing off their coats, rolling up their sleeves, and arming themselves with pistols and rifles, they mounted their horses and dashed forward among the first.  As they rode along, they made their wills in soldier-like style; each stating how his effects should be disposed of in case of his death, and appointing the other his executor.

The Blackfeet warriors had supposed the brigade of Milton Sublette all the foes they had to deal with, and were astonished to behold the whole valley suddenly swarming with horsemen, galloping to the field of action.  They withdrew into their fort, which was completely hid from sight in the dark and tangled wood.  Most of their women and children had retreated to the mountains.  The trappers now sallied forth and approached the swamp, firing into the thickets at random; the Blackfeet had a better sight at their adversaries, who were in the open field, and a half-breed was wounded in the shoulder.

When Captain Sublette arrived, he urged to penetrate the swamp and storm the fort, but all hung back in awe of the dismal horrors of the place, and the danger of attacking such desperadoes in their savage den.  The very Indian allies, though accustomed to bushfighting, regarded it as almost impenetrable, and full of frightful danger.  Sublette was not to be turned from his purpose, but offered to lead the way into the swamp.  Campbell stepped forward to accompany him.  Before entering the perilous wood, Sublette took his brothers aside, and told them that in case he fell, Campbell, who knew his will, was to be his executor.  This done, he grasped his rifle and pushed into the thickets, followed by Campbell.  Sinclair, the partisan from Arkansas, was at the edge of the wood with his brother and a few of his men.  Excited by the gallant example of the two friends, he pressed forward to share their dangers.

The swamp was produced by the labors of the beaver, which, by damming up a stream, had inundated a portion of the valley.  The place was all overgrown with woods and thickets, so closely matted and entangled that it was impossible to see ten paces ahead, and the three associates in peril had to crawl along, one after another, making their way by putting the branches and vines aside; but doing it with caution, lest they should attract the eye of some lurking marksman.  They took the lead by turns, each advancing about twenty yards at a time, and now and then hallooing to their men to follow.  Some of the latter gradually entered the swamp, and followed a little distance in their rear.