116 FALSE ALARM. 



should be my last game of fcarte, for Mr. Rochefort 

 would turn up the king and hold the most extra- 

 ordinary hand, when an alarm was heard in camp. 

 Being informed that Indians were round us, and 

 that they were about to make an attempt to stam- 

 pede the cattle, our arms and ammunition were 

 quickly laid hold of, . and we sallied forth, to 

 find each teamster, with rifle in hand, prepared 

 for any emergency. A quarter of an hour passed, 

 and not a sound disturbed the immense soli- 

 tude, except the note of water reptiles and the 

 occasional howl of some hungry wolf. We had 

 almost come to the conclusion that the alarm was 

 a false one, when an old man, whose duty appeared 

 to be that of hunter, and whom I had previously 

 remarked from his taciturnity and age, came up and 



proposed going out to ' prospect for the d d 



Red Skins/ His request was granted, and he dis- 

 appeared into the darkness. After the lapse of an 

 hour he returned with the satisfactory information 

 that the greenhorn (meaning the sentry) had taken 

 some buffalo for Indians. In return for his trouble 

 he received a dram of whisky, which, without com- 

 ment, he gulped down as if it had no more strength 

 than water. 



Next morning the dawn broke clear, promising 

 good weather. Buffalo were numerous in every 

 direction, and we had the prospect of a long and 

 agreeable day's march. About ten o'clock a few 

 Indians, pronounced to be an offshoot of the Crow 



