hivalric Adventures.--Attacked by Bears.

Mr. Fitzpatrick, with his party of trappers, wandering to and fro, found
himself at length encamped on the head waters of the Arkansas river, in
the heart of the Rocky mountains, more than a thousand miles from the
point where that majestic stream empties into the Mississippi. Their
intercourse with the Indians had not been such as to secure friendly
relations. Powerful tribes were around them, ready to combine for their
destruction. The men were widely scattered in their trapping excursions,
and but few were left here to guard the camp and the furs already taken.

It is impossible to trace with accuracy the course pursued by these
different bands, neither is it a matter of any moment. Kit found himself
at one time, left with but one man to guard the camp. He was fully
conscious of his danger, and made every possible preparation for defence,
should they be attacked. With food in abundance, loop-holes properly
arranged, and a number of rifles ever ready loaded, no war-party, however
numerous, could seize the fort without the loss of many of their men. And
as we have said, the boldest of these warriors were never willing to
expose themselves unprotected to rifle shot.

Neither of the men dared to venture far from their camp for game.
Fortunately this was not necessary. Game existed in such abundance that,
almost from the door of their fortification, they could shoot any quantity
they needed. They always kept a careful guard. While one slept the other
watched. For a month these two men were in this lonely position. At the
end of that time Mr. Blackwell, one of the partners in one of these
expeditions, arrived with fifteen fresh men, and a very thorough outfit.
It was a joyful meeting, and the whole party, taking with them their furs,
commenced a march to the Salt springs, near the head waters of the Platte
river.

These adventurers had been but four days on their route, when one morning
as they were breakfasting, the guard gave the startling cry of "Indians."
Every man was instantly on his feet, rifle in hand. The horses of the
trappers were at but a short distance from the camp, turned loose to crop
the grass, which was there scanty, wherever they could find it. But when
Kit Carson was in a company nothing was ever left to chance. The animals
were all carefully hobbled, a hind foot and a fore foot so bound together
that they could not possibly run.

The Indians, on fleet hor