ansas river. They had fixed the
latitude and longitude of all the important spots they had passed, and had
carefully examined the geological formation of the country.

They were working their way slowly up this beautiful valley, to a point
where it was only four miles wide. Here they halted to "noon." As they
were seated on the grass, quietly taking their dinner, they were alarmed
by the startling cry from the guard, of "All hands." In an instant
everybody was up, with his rifle in hand. The horses were immediately both
hobbled and picketed, while all eyes were directed to a wild-looking band
approaching in the distance. As they drew near they proved to be a party
of fourteen white men, returning on foot to the States. Their baggage was
strapped to their backs. It was indeed a forlorn and way-worn band. They
had, on a trapping excursion, encountered but a constant scene of
disasters and were now returning to St. Louis, utterly impoverished.

They brought the welcome intelligence that buffaloes were in abundance two
days' journey in advance. After a social hour, in which the two parties
feasted together, the surveyors mounted their horses, and the trappers
shouldered their packs, and the two parties separated in different
directions. Lieutenant Fremont mentions an incident illustrative of the
homeless life which many of these wanderers of the wilderness live:

"Among them," he writes, "I had found an old companion on a northern
prairie, a hardened and hardly-served veteran of the mountains, who had
been as much hacked and scarred as an old _moustache_ of Napoleon's Old
Guard. He flourished in the soubriquet of La Tulipe. His real name I never
knew. Finding that he was going to the States, only because his company
was bound in that direction, and that he was rather more than willing to
return with me, I took him again into my service."

The company made but seventeen miles that day. Just as they had gone into
camp, in the evening, three Indians were discovered approaching, two men
and a boy of thirteen. They belonged to the Cheyenne tribe, and had been
off, with quite a numerous band, on an unsuccessful horse-stealing raid
among the Pawnees. Upon a summit, they had caught a glimpse of the white
men, and had left their companions, confident of finding kind treatment at
the camp-fires of the pale faces.

They were invited to supper with Lieutenant Fremont's mess. Young Randolph
Benton, and the young Cheyenne, after eying