fire without orders,
yet unable to restrain his pugnacity, seized a brawny young warrior by
the shoulder, and whirling him around like a child, sent him flying off
with a tremendous kick.

"Begone, ye varmint!" he roared.

It was the last straw to the savages. Overawed by our unquailing
boldness in the face of their superior numbers, they followed their
staggering fellow, sullen and scowling, muttering threats, yet afraid to
strike.

We waited with finger on trigger, until the last of their long file had
glided beyond gunshot. Then the Lieutenant, half choking with rage,
ordered us to take stock of our losses. It did not soothe him to find
that the thieves had managed to make away with some thirty or forty
dollars' worth of our property. Not even the ferocious Sioux and
Chippewas had dared to rob him in this brazen fashion. But with only
sixteen guns, all told, it was wiser for us to submit to the outrage
than to imperil the expedition and perhaps lose our lives in an attempt
to follow and punish the rascals.

That evening the Lieutenant and I went back and lay in wait beside our
trace, thinking that the thieves might return and attempt to steal our
horses. It would have been only too well in keeping with the habits of
these savages, for the Pawnees are the most noted horse-thieves of all
the prairie tribes. Fortunately our watch proved needless.

By noon of the day after this encounter we came to the third large
southern branch of the river, immediately beyond which a fork on the
north bank ran off about northwest toward the Grand Peak which we had
first sighted so far out on the prairies. As the Peak now seemed only a
day's journey distant, the Lieutenant decided to attempt its ascent
with a small party. But first we joined in erecting a breastwork,--the
first American building in all this vast wilderness; the first structure
south of the Missouri and west of the Pawnee Republic to float the
glorious Stars and Stripes!

Shortly after noon of the second day the Lieutenant marched for the peak
with Miller, Brown, and myself.

Instead of reaching the foot of the peak by nightfall, as we had
expected, we were compelled to camp under a cedar tree, out on the bleak
prairie. Severe as was the cold, we felt still greater discomfort from
the lack of water. Again we marched for the great mountain, in the fond
expectation of encamping that night upon its summit. Instead, we hardly
reached the base of the lofty rise. Fo