190 JOHN C. FREMONT. 



leafy thickets of the trees. He returned to his 

 camp-fire, and apprehensive of no danger, he refused 

 in consequence of their long march to awaken 

 any of the men. Soon wearied nature began to 

 assert her claims even over his vigorous frame, and 

 he lay down to sleep. It is ^aid to have been the 

 second time only, during the whole progress of his 

 life, in which he failed to appoint a watch during 

 the hours of darkness. Suddenly a heavy groan 

 aroused the acute ear of Kit Carson. It was the 

 expiring moan of a man through whose brain the 

 swift tomahawk was cleaving its resistless way. 

 Carson in an instant sprang to his feet, and in a 

 voice of thunder awoke the whole camp. They 

 had been attacked by a band of Tla-math Indians, 

 who had followed the company of Lieutenant Gil- 

 lespie during the entire day, in order during the 

 hours of slumber to waylay and destroy them. 

 Already the bloody hatchet and the winged arrow 

 had done fearful work. Basil Lajeunesse, a bold 

 and enterprising young Frenchman, a friend and 

 favorite of Fremont, was already dead. An Iowa 

 Indian had also expired, and a Delaware Indian 

 was dying. It was the last groan of this unhappy 

 victim which had so opportunely aroused the sleep- 

 ing camp. The lonely adventurers, having grasped 

 their ready arms, fought with the ferocity of lions 



