at exactly suited him. At the side
of the meat-room, and separated from it by a clay partition, was another
compartment, used for the storage of furs. It had no other communication
with the fort, except through a square hole in the partition; and of
course it was perfectly dark. One evening the bourgeois, watching for
a moment when no one observed him, dodged into the meat-room, clambered
through the hole, and ensconced himself among the furs and buffalo
robes. Soon after, old Pierre came in with his lantern; and, muttering
to himself, began to pull over the bales of meat, and select the best
pieces, as usual. But suddenly a hollow and sepulchral voice proceeded
from the inner apartment: "Pierre! Pierre! Let that fat meat alone! Take
nothing but lean!" Pierre dropped his lantern, and bolted out into
the fort, screaming, in an agony of terror, that the devil was in the
storeroom; but tripping on the threshold, he pitched over upon the
gravel, and lay senseless, stunned by the fall. The Canadians ran out
to the rescue. Some lifted the unlucky Pierre; and others, making an
extempore crucifix out of two sticks, were proceeding to attack the
devil in his stronghold, when the bourgeois, with a crest-fallen
countenance, appeared at the door. To add to the bourgeois'
mortification, he was obliged to explain the whole stratagem to Pierre,
in order to bring the latter to his senses.

We were sitting, on the following morning, in the passage-way between
the gates, conversing with the traders Vaskiss and May. These two men,
together with our sleek friend, the clerk Montalon, were, I believe, the
only persons then in the fort who could read and write. May was telling
a curious story about the traveler Catlin, when an ugly, diminutive
Indian, wretchedly mounted, came up at a gallop, and rode past us into
the fort. On being questioned, he said that Smoke's village was close at
hand. Accordingly only a few minutes elapsed before the hills beyond the
river were covered with a disorderly swarm of savages, on horseback and
on foot. May finished his story; and by that time the whole array had
descended to Laramie Creek, and commenced crossing it in a mass. I
walked down to the bank. The stream is wide, and was then between three
and four feet deep, with a very swift current. For several rods the
water was alive with dogs, horses, and Indians. The long poles used in
erecting the lodges are carried by the horses, being fastened by the
heavie