trimmed with beads, and bows of bright ribbons. They formed a striking
contrast to us, travel-stained wayfarers in linsey dresses and
sun-bonnets. Most of the white men connected with the fort had taken
Indian wives and many little children played around their doors.

Mr. Bourdeau, the general manager at the fort, explained to us that the
emigrants who had remained there up to the previous Saturday were on
that day advised by several of the Sioux chiefs, for whom he acted as
spokesman, "to resume their journey before the coming Tuesday, and to
unite in strong companies, because their people were in large force in
the hills, preparing to go out on the war-path in the country through
which the travellers had yet to pass; that they were not pleased with
the whites; that many of their warriors were cross and sulky in
anticipation of the work before them; and that any white persons found
outside the fort upon their arrival might be subject to robbery and
other bad treatment." This advice of the chiefs had awakened such fear
in the travellers that every camp-fire was deserted before sunrise the
ensuing morning. We, in turn, were filled with apprehension, and
immediately hurried onward in the ruts made by the fleeing wagons of
the previous day.

Before we got out of the country of the Sioux, we were overtaken by
about three hundred mounted warriors. They came in stately procession,
two abreast; rode on in advance of our train; halted, and opened ranks;
and as our wagons passed between their lines, the warriors took from
between their teeth, green twigs, and tossed them toward us in pledge
of friendship, then turned and as quietly and solemnly as they had come
to us, rode toward the hills. A great sigh of relief expressed the
company's satisfaction at being again alone; still no one could feel
sure that we should escape a night attack. Our trail led up into the