Somewhere up the height of land that divides the southern waters of the
Saskatchewan from the northern waters of the Missouri, the tracks of
Minnetaree warriors were found. These were the most murderous raiders of
the plains. Over a swell of the prairie Lewis was startled to see a band
of thirty horses, half of them saddled. The Indians were plainly on the
war-path, for no women were in camp; so Lewis took out his flag and
advanced unfalteringly. An Indian came forward. Lewis and the chief
shook hands, but Lewis now had no presents to pacify hostiles. Camping
with the Minnetarees 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.
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