Journey from 
Fort Crocket 
to 
fense. Our informant assured us now that he had 
seen a whole band of mounted Indians, one or two 
miles off, coming toward us in full career. We sur- 
mised that they were Blackfeet and prepared for a 
serious encounter. Our animals we tied to trees close 
by. For ourselves we looked to our weapons, firmly 
resolved that we would at least sell our scalps dearly. 
All this took but a few minutes. Then there was an 
expectant pause. Nothing stirred as yet. One of 
us crept the while to the edge of the timber to recon- 
noiter. “There they come,” he suddenly cried, 
“Come here quick!’ We hurried to him, and saw 
with astonishment a whole troop—not of Blackfeet, 
to be sure, but—of elk rushing toward us. They had 
not yet seen us, because we were hid behind bushes; 
but they scented us, and, with their customary curios- 
ity, ran up tous. All at once our rifles cracked. Sev- 
eral tumbled, and one lay dead in its tracks. With 
exultation we fell upon the coveted victim. It was a 
fat elk cow. To live in plenty after several days of 
fasting, to be sure is pleasanter than being scalped by 
Blackfeet; still our informant had to bear many a joke 
on account of his defective vision. Such mistakes, 
owever, are not uncommon in mountain life. At a 
distance an elk, especially if he throws back his head, 
looks very much like a horseman. Meanwhile our 
two hunters joined us, and helped us carve. 
Quite systematically we now began to arrange our 
bill of fare. First soup appeared on the table, then 
cooked meat, then various roasts, and finally sau- 
