The appearance of Mr.
Hunt and his companions put an abrupt end to the hunt; the buffalo
scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes and
galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry them. Mr.
Hunt gave chase; there was a sharp scamper, though of short continuance.
Two young Indians, who were indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken.
They were terribly frightened, and evidently gave themselves up for
lost. By degrees their fears were allayed by kind treatment; but they
continued to regard the strangers with a mixture of awe and wonder, for
it was the first time in their lives they had ever seen a white man.
They belonged to a party of Snakes who had come across the mountains on
their autumnal hunting excursion to provide buffalo meat for the
winter. Being persuaded of the peaceful intentions of Mr. Hunt and his
companions, they willingly conducted them to their camp. It was pitched
in a narrow valley on the margin of a stream. The tents were of dressed
skins, some of them fantastically painted; with horses grazing about
them. The approach of the party caused a transient alarm in the camp,
for these poor Indians were ever on the look-out for cruel foes. No
sooner, however, did they recognize the garb and complexion of their
visitors, than their apprehensions were changed into Joy; for some of
them had dealt with white men, and knew them to be friendly, and to
abound with articles of singular value.
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