LIFE IN THE FAR WEST, 165 



Leaving old Bill Williams and our two friends to ex- 

 change their rough but hearty greetings, we will glance at 

 that old worthy's history since the time when we left him 

 caching in the fire and smoke on the Indian battle-ground 

 in the Rocky Mountains. He had escaped fire and smoke, 

 or he would not have been here on Arkansa with his old 

 grizzled Nez-perce steed. On that occasion the veteran 

 mountaineer had lost his two pack-animals and all his 

 beaver. He was not the man, however, to want a horse 

 or mule as long as an Indian village was near at hand. 

 Skulking, therefore, by day in canon and deep gorges of 

 the mountains, and travelling by night, he followed closely 

 on the trail of the victorious savages, bided his time, struck 

 his "coup," and recovered a pair of pack-horses, which 

 was all he required. Ever since, he had been trapping 

 alone in all parts of the mountains ; had visited the ren- 

 dezvous but twice for short periods, and then with full 

 packs of beaver ; and was now on his way to Bent's Fort, 

 to dispose of his present loads of peltry, enjoy one good 

 carouse on Taos whisky, and then return to some hole or 

 corner in the mountains which he knew of, to follow in 

 the spring his solitary avocation. He too had had his 

 share of troubles, and had many Indian scrapes, but passed 

 safely through all, and scarcely cared to talk of what he 

 had done, so matter-of-fact to him where the most extra- 

 ordinary of his perilous adventures. 



Arrived at Bent's Fort, the party disposed of their caval- 

 lada, and then, respect for the pardonable weaknesses of 

 our mountain friends prompts us to draw a veil over the 

 furious orgies that ensued. A number of hunters and 

 trappers were "in" from their hunting-grounds, and a 

 village of Shians and some lodges of Kioways were camped 

 round the fort. As long as the liquor lasted and there 

 was good store of alcohol as well as of Taos whisky the 

 Arkansa resounded with furious mirth, not unmixed with 

 graver scenes ; for your mountaineer, ever quarrelsome in 

 his cups, is quick to give and take offence when rifles 

 alone can settle the difference, and much blood is spilt 

 upon the prairie in his wild and frequent quarrels. 



