LIFE IN THE FAR WEST. 99 



tunes of Cross-Eagle, the party agreeing to rendezvous at 

 the junction of the two forks, as soon as they had trapped 

 to their heads and again descended them. The larger party 

 were the first to reach the rendezvous, and camped on the 

 banks of the main stream to await the arrival of La Bonte. 



The morning after their return, they had just risen from 

 their blankets, and were lazily stretching themselves before 

 the fire, when a volley of firearms rattled from the bank of 

 the creek, and two of their number fell dead to the ground, 

 whilst at the same moment the deafening yells of Indians 

 broke upon the ears of the frightened squaws. Cross-Eagle 

 seized his rifle, and, though severely wounded, rushed to 

 the cover of a hollow tree which stood near, and crawling 

 into it, defended himself the whole day with the greatest 

 obstinacy, killing five Indians outright, and wounding 

 several more. Unable to drive the gallant trapper from 

 his retreat, the savages took advantage of a favourable wind 

 which suddenly sprang up, and fired the long dry grass 

 surrounding the tree. The rotten log catching fire, at 

 length compelled the hunter to leave his retreat. Clubbing 

 his rifle, he charged amongst the Indians, and fell at last, 

 pierced through and through with wounds, but not until 

 two more of his assailants had fallen by his hand. 



The two squaws were carried off, and one was sold 

 shortly afterwards to some white men at the trading ports 

 on the Platte ; but La Bonte never recovered the "Bending 

 Reed," nor even heard of her existence from that day. So 

 once more was the mountaineer bereft of his better half ; 

 and when he returned to the rendezvous, a troop of wolves 

 were feasting on the bodies of his late companions, and of 

 the Indians killed in the affray, of which he only heard 

 the particulars a long time after from a trapper, who had 

 been present when one of the squaws was offered at the 

 trading-post for sale, and had heard her recount the miser- 

 able fate of her husband and his companions on the forks 

 of the creek, which, from the fact of La Bonte being the 

 leader of the party, has since borne his name. 



Undaunted by this misfortune, the trapper continued his 

 solitary hunt, passing through the midst of the Crow and 



