ff, and all the scalps had been
taken. Most of the bodies, although much mutilated, lay in a posture
that led our hunters to believe they had been killed while asleep; but
one or two were cut almost to pieces, and from the blood-bespattered and
trampled sward around, it seemed as if they had struggled long and
fiercely for life. Whether or not any of the savages had been slain, it
was impossible to tell, for if such had been the case, their comrades,
doubtless, had carried away their bodies. That they had been
slaughtered by the party of Camanchees who had been seen at daybreak,
was quite clear to Joe; but his burning desire to revenge the death of
the white men had to be stifled, as his party was so small.

Long afterwards it was discovered that this was a band of trappers who,
like those mentioned at the beginning of this volume, had set out to
avenge the death of a comrade; but God, who has retained the right of
vengeance in His own hand, saw fit to frustrate their purpose, by giving
them into the hands of the savages whom they had set forth to slay.

As it was impossible to bury so many bodies, the travellers resumed
their journey, and left them to bleach there in the wilderness; but they
rode the whole of that day almost without uttering a word. Meanwhile
the Camanchees, who had observed the trio, and had ridden away at first
for the purpose of deceiving them into the belief that they had passed
unobserved, doubled on their track, and took a long sweep in order to
keep out of sight until they could approach under the shelter of a belt
of woodland towards which the travellers now approached.

The Indians adopted this course instead of the easier method of simply
pursuing so weak a party, because the plains at this part were bordered
by a long stretch of forest into which the hunters could have plunged,
and rendered pursuit more difficult, if not almost useless. The detour
thus taken was so extensive that the shades of evening were beginning to
descend before they could put their plan into execution. The forest lay
about a mile to the right of our hunters, like some dark mainland, of
which the prairie was the sea, and the scattered clumps of wood the
islands.

"There's no lack o' game here," said Dick Varley, pointing to a herd of
buffaloes which rose at their approach, and fled away towards the wood.

"I think we'll ha' thunder soon," remarked Joe. "I never feel it
onnatteral hot like this without looking