CHAPTER III. 



ON THE WAY TO WYOMING. 



INDIAN'S QUESTION, "SHOSTIDA?" HUFFMAN IN CAMP AGREES 

 TO JOIN US A FINE DOE! BUT HUFFMAN HAS MY GUN A DAY ON 

 BENNETT CREEK ALLEN IN LUCK HUFFMAN CURSES HIS KEN- 

 NEDY PEA-SLINGER NOTHING BUT " WOODCHUCK " UNIVERSAL 

 DAMPNESS THE LUCK TURNS. 



WE pulled out early the following morning and continued 

 our march up the river. We were in sight of large herds of 

 Indian ponies nearly all day, and in fact during the three 

 days that it took us to cross their reservation. Their tepees 

 were scattered all along the river, and we never passed one 

 without being challenged. A warrior would ride up to us, 

 shake hands with us and shout "shostida" (where are you 

 going ?) in an authoritative, if not impudent tone, that gave 

 us to understand at once that they considered us intruders, 

 and would like to have us get off their ground as soon as 

 possible. Our answer that we were going across the line into 

 Wyoming, and that we were not going to hunt on their 

 reservation, was generally satisfactory. But if we had killed 

 any game or attempted to do so on their ground we would soon 

 have been served with a peremptory notice to quit the premises. 



Two young warriors rode with us several miles this morn- 

 ing, and finally told us if we would give them some fish-hooks, 

 they would catch some trout and bring them to us for dinner. 

 We gave them the hooks gladly enough and hoped we should 

 not be bothered with them further, but sure enough, true to 

 their promise, they turned up at noon with a fine string of trout. 



About eleven o'clock in the forenoon we met, away out 



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