of the
brook were clear as crystal--very different from the muddy Missouri
into which it flowed.

While Dick Varley felled and cut up firewood, Henri unpacked the
horses and turned them loose to graze, and Joe kindled the fire and
prepared venison steaks and hot tea for supper.

In excursions of this kind it is customary to "hobble" the
horses--that is, to tie their fore-legs together, so that they cannot
run either fast or far, but are free enough to amble about with a
clumsy sort of hop in search of food. This is deemed a sufficient
check on their tendency to roam, although some of the knowing horses
sometimes learn to hop so fast with their hobbles as to give their
owners much trouble to recapture them. But when out in the prairies
where Indians are known or supposed to be in the neighbourhood, the
horses are picketed by means of a pin or stake attached to the ends
of their long lariats, as well as hobbled; for Indians deem it no
disgrace to steal or tell lies, though they think it disgraceful to
be found out in doing either. And so expert are these dark-skinned
natives of the western prairies, that they will creep into the midst
of an enemy's camp, cut the lariats and hobbles of several horses,
spring suddenly on their backs, and gallop away.

They not only steal from white men, but tribes that are at enmity
steal from each other, and the boldness with which they do this is
most remarkable. When Indians are travelling in a country where
enemies are prowling, they guard their camps at night with jealous
care. The horses in particular are both hobbled and picketed, and
sentries are posted all round the camp. Yet, in spite of these
precautions, hostile Indians manage to elude the sentries and creep
into the camp. When a thief thus succeeds in effecting an entrance,
his chief danger is past. He rises boldly to his feet, and wrapping
his blanket or buffalo robe round him, he walks up and down as if he
were a member of the tribe. At the same time he dexterously cuts the
lariats of such horses as he observes are not hobbled. He dare not
stoop to cut the hobbles, as the action would be observed, and
suspicion would be instantly aroused. He then leaps on the best horse
he can find, and uttering a terrific war-whoop darts away into the
plains, driving the loosened horses before him.

No such dark thieves were supposed to be near the camp under the
birch-tree, however, so Joe, and Dick, and Henri ate their supper in
comf