and to say the least, would take measures to prevent the time
hanging heavily on the hands of the pale faces.

But, to the astonishment of the trappers, the days passed without
bringing a glimpse of the savages. No hostile shot awoke the
impressive stillness of the wilderness. Could it be the Blackfeet
were seeking to throw the whites off their guard? Did they expect
to induce a degree of carelessness that would enable the Blackfeet
to gather their warriors and overwhelm them before they could reply?

It was not reasonable to suppose that the sagacious tribe held any
such belief, for they could not have failed to know that any such
hope was idle.

But the explanation came one day by a party of friendly Crow
Indians, who stated that the small pox was raging with such awful
virulence among the Blackfeet that they were dying by hundreds and
thousands. Indeed, the havoc was so dreadful that there was reason
to believe the whole tribe would be swept away.

It would not be the first time that such an annihilation has taken
place among the American Indians. The treatment required by that
frightful disease is precisely the opposite of that which the red
man in his ignorance pursues. When small pox breaks out among them,
therefore, the mortality becomes appalling.

The Crow Indians affiliated with the trappers and guided them to a
secluded valley, where they established themselves for the winter.
The lodges were made strong and substantial, and it was fortunate
that such precautions were taken, for the winter proved one of