erre, the cook. The trio soon reached the opposite side of the
river. On landing, they freshly primed their rifles and pistols. A path
winding for about a hundred yards among rocks and crags, led to the
village. No notice seemed to be taken of their approach. Not a solitary
being, man, woman, or child, greeted them.

The very dogs, those noisy pests of an Indian town, kept silence. On
entering the village, a boy made his appearance, and pointed to a house
of larger dimensions than the rest. They had to stoop to enter it; as
soon as they had passed the threshold, the narrow passage behind them
was filled up by a sudden rush of Indians, who had before kept out of
sight.

M'Kenzie and his companions found themselves in a rude chamber of about
twenty-five feet long and twenty wide. A bright fire was blazing at one
end, near which sat the chief, about sixty years old. A large number of
Indians, wrapped in buffalo robes, were squatted in rows, three deep,
forming a semicircle round three sides of the room. A single glance
around sufficed to show them the grim and dangerous assembly into which
they had intruded, and that all retreat was cut off by the mass which
blocked up the entrance.

The chief pointed to the vacant side of the room opposite to the door,
and motioned for them to take their seats. They complied. A dead pause
ensued. The grim warriors around sat like statues; each muffled in his
robe, with his fierce eyes bent on the intruders. The latter felt they
were in a perilous predicament.

"Keep your eyes on the chief while I am addressing him," said M'Kenzie
to his companions. "Should he give any sign to his band, shoot him, and
make for the door."

M'Kenzie advanced, and offered the pipe of peace to the chief, but it
was refused. He then made a regular speech, explaining the object
of their visit, and proposing to give in exchange for the rifle two
blankets, an axe, some beads and tobacco.

When he had done, the chief rose, began to address him in a low voice,
but soon became loud and violent, and ended by working himself up into a
furious passion. He upbraided the white men for their sordid conduct in
passing and repassing through their neighborhood, without giving them a
blanket or any other article of goods, merely because they had no furs
to barter in exchange, and he alluded, with menaces of vengeance, to the
death of the Indian killed by the whites in the skirmish at the falls.

Matters were verging to