beaver-runs narrowed, the
shores rose higher and higher into rampart walls, and the dark-shadowed
waters came leaping down in the lumpy, uneven runnels of a small canon.
You can always tell whether the waters of a canon are compressed or not,
whether they come from broad, swampy meadows or clear snow streams
smaller than the canon. The marsh waters roll down swift and black and
turbid, raging against the crowding walls; the snow streams leap clear
and foaming as champagne, and are in too great a hurry to stop and
quarrel with the rocks. It is altogether likely these men recognised
swampy water, and were ascending the canon in search of a fresh
beaver-marsh; or they would not have continued paddling six miles above
the Jefferson with daylight growing plainer at every mile. First the
mist rose like a smoky exhalation from the river; then it flaunted
across the rampart walls in banners; then the far mountain peaks took
form against the sky, islands in a sea of fog; then the cloud banks were
floating in mid-heaven blindingly white from a sun that painted each
canon wall in the depths of the water.

How much farther would the canon lead? Should they go higher up or not?
Was it wooded or clear plain above the walls? The man paused. What was
that noise?

"Like buffalo," said Potts.

"Might be Blackfeet," answered Colter.

No. What would Blackfeet be doing, riding at a pace to make such thunder
so close to a canon? It was only a buffalo herd stampeding on the annual
southern run. Again Colter urged that the noise _might_ be from Indians.
It would be safer for them to retreat at once. At which Potts wanted to
know if Colter were afraid, using a stronger word--"coward."

Afraid? Colter afraid? Colter who had remained behind Lewis and Clark's
men to trap alone in the wilds for nearly two years, who had left Manuel
Lisa's brigade to go alone among the thieving Crows, whose leadership
had helped the Crows to defeat the Blackfeet?

Anyway, it would now be as dangerous to go back as forward. They plainly
couldn't land here. Let them go ahead where the walls seemed to slope
down to shore. Two or three strokes sent the canoe round an elbow of
rock into the narrow course of a creek. Instantly out sprang five or six
hundred Blackfeet warriors with weapons levelled guarding both sides of
the stream.

An Indian scout had discovered the trail of the white men and sent the
whole band scouring ahead to intercept them at this narrow pa