reat consternation, the reports of the rifles were heard and fourteen
bullets struck fourteen warriors. Several were killed outright, others
were seriously wounded. Before the savages had recovered from their
consternation the rifles were reloaded and every man was ready for another
discharge.

The brave Blackfeet wavered for a moment, and then with unearthly yells,
made a simultaneous charge upon the thicket. Carson was in the midst of
his little band. His calm, soft voice was heard reassuring his men, as he
said:

"Keep cool and fire as deliberately as if you were shooting at game."

There was another almost simultaneous discharge and every bullet struck a
warrior. The Indians, thus mercilessly handled, recoiled, and every one
sought refuge behind some trunk, rock or tree. They could see no foe,
while the trappers could find peep-holes through which they could watch
all the movements of the Indians. A shower of arrows was thrown into the
thicket, but none of the trappers were struck. The intermittent battle
continued the whole day. Several times the savages attempted to renew the
charge, but as often the same deadly volley was poured in upon them with
never-failing aim.

At length they attempted to set the thicket on fire, hoping thus to burn
out their foes. There was another and still larger body of trappers about
six miles below the point where this battle was raging. But the direction
of the wind was such, together with the dense forest and the broken
ground, that the report of the fire-arms was not heard.

It is probable that the Indians had knowledge of this band, and feared
that the larger party might come to the aid of their friends. Whatever may
have been the reason which influenced them, they suddenly abandoned the
contest and departed. As soon as Mr. Carson had satisfied himself that
they were effectually out of the way, he emerged from his retreat and
joined his friends down the river. His coolness and prudence had saved the
party. They lost not a man nor an animal.

But the Indians still hovered around in such energetic and persevering
hostility, that not a trapper could leave the camp without danger of
falling into an ambuscade. The Indians avoided any decisive conflict, but
their war-whoops and yells of defiance, like the howlings of wolves, could
be heard, by day and by night, in the forests all around them. Unless the
traps were carefully guarded, they were sure to be stolen. Under these
circumst