s was their first night on guard," writes Lieutenant Fremont "and
such an introduction did not augur very auspiciously of the pleasures of
the expedition. Many things conspired to render their situation
uncomfortable. Stories of desperate and bloody Indian fights were rife in
the camp. Our position was badly chosen, surrounded on all sides by
timbered hollows, and occupying an area of several hundred feet, so that
necessarily the guards were far apart. Now and then I could hear Randolph,
as if relieved by the sound of a voice in the darkness, calling out to the
sergeant of the guard, to direct his attention to some imaginary alarm.
But they stood it out, and took their turn regularly afterwards."

The next morning, as they were proceeding up the valley, several moving
objects were dimly discerned, far away upon the opposite hills; which
objects disappeared before a glass could be brought to bear upon them. One
of the company, who was in the rear, came spurring up, in great haste,
shouting "Indians." He affirmed that he had seen them distinctly, and had
counted twenty-seven. The party immediately halted. All examined their
arms, and prepared for battle, in case they should be attacked. Kit Carson
sprang upon one of the most fleet of the hunting horses, crossed the
river, and galloped off, over the prairie, towards the hills where the
objects had been seen.

"Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle," writes Lieutenant Fremont,
"and scouring, bareheaded, over the prairies, Kit was one of the finest
pictures of a horseman I had ever seen. He soon returned quite leisurely,
and informed them that the party of twenty-seven Indians had resolved
itself into a herd of six elk who, having discovered us, had scampered off
at full speed."

The next day they reached a fork of the Blue river, where the road leaves
that tributary of the Kansas, and passes over to the great valley of the
Platte river. In their march, across the level prairie of this high
table-land, they encountered a squall of rain, with vivid lightning and
heavy peals of thunder. One blinding flash was accompanied by a bolt,
which struck the prairie but a few hundred feet from their line, sending
up a column of sand.

A march of about twenty-three miles brought them to the waters of the
majestic Platte river. Here they found a very delightful place of
encampment near Grand Island. They had now travelled three hundred and
twenty-eight miles from the mouth of the K