The whole day was consumed
in these occupations; at night, they made a scanty meal of their
remaining provisions, and lay down to sleep with heavy hearts. In the
morning, they were up and about at an early hour, and began to prepare
their knapsacks for a march, while Ben Jones repaired to an old beaver
trap which he had set in the river bank at some little distance from the
camp. He was rejoiced to find a middle-sized beaver there, sufficient
for a morning's meal to his hungry comrades. On his way back with his
prize, he observed two heads peering over the edge of an impending
cliff, several hundred feet high, which he supposed to be a couple of
wolves. As he continued on, he now and then cast his eye up; heads were
still there, looking down with fixed and watchful gaze. A suspicion now
flashed across his mind that they might be Indian scouts; and, had they
not been far above the reach of his rifle, he would undoubtedly have
regaled them with a shot.
On arriving at the camp, he directed the attention of his comrades to
these aerial observers. The same idea was at first entertained, that
they were wolves; but their immovable watchfulness soon satisfied every
one that they were Indians. It was concluded that they were watching the
movements of the party, to discover their place of concealment of
such articles as they would be compelled to leave behind.
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