arees for the night, as if he feared nothing, Lewis
nevertheless took good care to keep close watch on all movements. He
smoked the pipe of peace with them as late as he dared; and when he
retired to sleep, he had ordered Fields and the other two white men to be
on guard. At sunrise the Indians crowded round the fire, where Fields
had for the moment carelessly laid his rifle. Simultaneously, the
warriors dashed at the weapons of the sleeping white men, while other
Indians made off with the explorers' horses. With a shout, Fields gave
the alarm, and pursuing the thieves, grappled with the Indian who had
stolen his rifle. In the scuffle the Indian was stabbed to the heart.
Drewyer succeeded in wresting back his gun, and Lewis dashed out with his
pistol, shouting for the Indians to leave the horses. The raiders were
mounting to go off at full speed. The white men pursued on foot. Twelve
horses fell behind; but just as the Indians dashed for hiding behind a
cliff, Lewis' strength gave out. He warned them if they did not stop he
would shoot. An Indian turned to fire with one of the stolen weapons,
and instantly Lewis' pistol rang true. The fellow rolled to earth
mortally wounded; but Lewis felt the whiz of a bullet past his own head.
Having captured more horses than they had lost, the white men at once
mounted and rode for their lives through river and slough, sixty miles
without halt; for the Minnetarees would assuredly rally a larger band of
warriors to their aid. A pause of an hour to refresh the horses and a
wilder ride by moonlight put forty more miles between Captain Lewis and
danger. At daylight the men were so sore from the mad pace for
twenty-four hours that they could scarcely stand; but safety depended on
speed and on they went again till they reached the main Missouri, where
by singularly good luck some of the other _voyageurs_ had arrived.

[Illustration: On Guard.]

The entire forces were reunited below the Yellowstone on August 12th.
Traders on the way up the Missouri from St. Louis brought first news of
the outer world, and the discoverers were not a little amused to learn
that they had been given up for dead. At the Mandans, Colter, one of the
frontiersmen, asked leave to go back to the wilds; and Chaboneau, with
his dauntless wife, bade the white men farewell. On September 20th
settlers on the river bank above St. Louis were surprised to see thirty
ragged men, with faces bronzed like leather,