ght two of our horses had been stolen by our light-fingered
neighbors, and though one had at once been delivered up when we sent
over to the village, the other was still missing. As we fell in about
the pack horses, I saw Pike turn back to address a question to young
John Sparks, his waiter. The bright-eyed lad saluted and stepped out,
with evident eagerness, to mount one of the led horses. Pike signed him
to take position at the head of our little column, and himself rode
forward with Baroney.

The moment they reached the van, he gave the order to march, and we
swung away down the hill toward the river. Across in the village we
could see that the savages had made preparations which bore out in most
menacing fashion their threats to oppose our march westward. Every
woman and child had been sent away during the night or else hidden in
the lodges. This of itself was a most ominous sign. But that was the
least of it. All about the lodges we could see swarms of warriors, armed
with guns, bows, and lances, while here and there one of the naked young
braves showed the hideous black and vermilion markings of the war paint.

But if the savages thought to awe and turn us back by this warlike
display, they were never so mistaken. The Osages had slipped off at
dawn, with the explanation that they wished to hunt, and would join us
later in the day. None of our men wished to hunt. They swung along down
the slope as steadily as on parade, some of the younger ones a trifle
flushed, some of the older a shade paler beneath their tan and sunburn.
Sergeant Ballenger marched along as stiff as his ramrod. Sergeant Meek
rocked a little in his step from sheer exuberance of feeling over the
prospect of a fight. His grim, scarred face fairly glowed.

We came down to the river bank a little above the town, and crossed over
without breaking column, those on foot holding their muskets and powder
horns well up above the water. When all were across, command was given
to halt and look to the primings. Again the order was given to close up
and march. We swung steadily up the bank, but obliquely, that we might
pass by the village. Already we could see every movement of the savages,
who swarmed over to the near side of the village, waving their
buffalo-hide shields and their weapons and shouting insults at us. Once
or twice we heard the shrill Pawnee war whistle. In the midst of this
wild uproar, when we were directly opposite the upper side of the
vi