t themselves clear
of Indians, as there were no visible signs of their presence. The
experience of the day, however, had admonished them to be on their
guard against surprise. To make things sure as to their animals, they
fastened them to stakes driven in the earth, sufficient rope being
given them for grazing. The place selected for their camp was a
beautiful spot, being on a small stream which empties into the
Arkansas, the water of which is sparkling and clear. There are many of
these charming little brooks which, emptying into, form this river.
To the general traveler, however, they present one great drawback as
eligible camping sites. Their banks are usually pretty thickly lined
with rattlesnakes. The mountaineer is quite well accustomed and
reconciled to this venomous reptile, as they abound in nearly every
section of his hunting and trapping grounds. Not so however with the
mere visitor of, or casual traveller over, the Western Territories. To
them his rattlesnake-ship is a formidable personage.

The rattlesnake rarely moves after sunset. The night air is generally
too chilling for him. In the day time they are a noble enemy, always
warning their antagonist of their hostile intentions by springing
their rattles, thus giving a person warning of his danger. By these
two wise provisions of the Creator the power of this otherwise
terrible reptile, is so limited or restrained, that the trapper rarely
gives him a thought unless he comes in direct contact. Although they
are so numerous, it very seldom happens that either the Indian or the
trapper is bitten by them.

The party had not been long at rest before their suspicions were
aroused that hostile Indians were near them. A faithful dog belonging
to the camp kept up a furious barking, much more lustily than when
wolves annoyed him. An extra guard was therefore immediately posted,
when the remainder of the party lay down; but, not for sleep. They
expected at every moment that their services would be needed to defend
the camp. Everything however passed as usual during the night; and,
with the morning, all suspicion was laid aside. Kit Carson, with three
companions, proposed a visit to a fork of a river close by, to look
for signs of beaver. They had been informed that these animals were
numerous in this particular stream. Carson and the three men had
been absent about one hour when the signs of Indians proved to be
realities, in the shape of a bold and well-sustained