the United States had suffered from his people; he agreed to consider the insult cancelled, to return our horses, and withdraw peaceably, without interrupting us or our property, upon Capt. Grant promising to give him a green blanket, and some tobacco. They kept their faith towards us, but not towards our property; taking advantage of their proximity, and the disorder, to pilfer whatever they could lay their hands on. Having regained our animals, and packed up, we followed Capt. Grant, and joined his camp in the evening. This circumstance happened on the 20th of May. Having joined with Capt. Grant, we continued to travel with him, until we reached his Fort.
At our second encampment on the Brule River, a Frenchman and his Indian wife came to us, from Fort Boise. They came expressly to meet Capt. Grant, having, probably, some message. The Frenchman told us, that the village near the mouth of the river, exasperated against the white people, on account of the death of their friends, would hardly allow him to pass. They debated among themselves whether they should not kill him; but by the intervention of his wife, who was of their tribe, and related to some of the Indians of the village, and as he was not an American, they concluded to spare him. We were aware, that if we met any of these Indians, they would not be well disposed towards us; but this timely information put us more on our guard.
On the 30th of May, we crossed the Brule River, at the village of the unfriendly Indians. The women and children had fled from their huts, as soon as they became apprised of our approach; and here and there on the hills around, we could see them couched among the sage. They knew that we were Americans, and the men, standing around in groups, regarded us with angry, and sullen countenances. But under the circumstances, they were more in fear than we were, and appeared without their arms. As we passed, the relations of the two that had been killed, set up a howl of lamentation, which they continued as far as we could hear.
That evening, we pitched our camps on the banks of Snake River, three miles distant from the village. Many of the Diggers came into our encampment, and appeared to be anxious to obtain some opportunity of revenge. Some of them were carrying their arms, and some had their faces striped, and spotted, with black and white, the colors of war. Some of them were also harranging loudly about their misfortune, and telling how bad the Americans were, and how very bad were their own hearts. In
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