But now was an uproar, for the savages across the stream learned what was going on, and, in a few moments, came swarming to the attack. A hundred of them rushed upon the nervy band of trappers, crying out, “You no go on. You stay here. You no go away.”
Brandishing aloft an immense club, a red warrior rushed upon Reed and felled him to the ground. Another ran towards McLellan, who, with rifle in hand, stood watching the affray. As he approached, the trapper was ready, and, although the redskin attempted to throw a buffalo robe over his head in order to blind his vision as he made a thrust at him with his knife, the old scout was too wary a bird to be caught napping. Stepping quickly aside, he shot the savage dead. As the redskin rolled over, a noise sounded from behind, and, wheeling around, he was just in time to hit another Indian who was about to shoot him with a rifle. The trappers now rallied to the defense of their leader. The savage who had attacked Reed was dispatched just as he was about to brain the trapper with his tomahawk. The rifles of the men from Astoria spoke in unison, and terrified by the desperate courage of the rangers, the savages dropped back. McLellan urged his followers to the charge, and, with a wild yell, they rushed upon the redskins, who took to their heels, leaving many of their number prostrate upon the ground.
The unfortunate Reed had lost his dispatches to Astor, for he carried them in a bright, new, tin box which immediately attracted the attention of the Indians. They fancied that it must be of great value, because of the care which the leader took of it. But this put an end to the expedition. Reluctantly and sadly the trappers returned to the trading-post, where the wounded recovered from their injuries received in the little skirmish with the red men.
Hunt was greatly disappointed. “Boys!” said he, “I must absolutely get my dispatches through to Saint Louis,—Indians or no Indians. Astor must know of the fate of his other division. I will start a second expedition in June and Robert Stuart will be its commander. He will take only four good men with him.”
McLellan announced that he would be a member of the party, and Crooks also declared that he would leave Astoria, because he had become dissatisfied with the method in which Hunt had treated him. They soon launched their canoes in the Columbia; began to paddle up the stream, and, before long, reached the mouth of the Walla-Walla, where they hid their frail craft, and started across country to the Snake River. Horses had been purchased from the red men, and with these they made good time, although again their food supply became exhausted so that they were forced to scrape the fur from beaver and buffalo skins and eat the hide in order to keep from starving. Fortunately game was now met with and this provender saved their lives.
At the place where they had last camped on Snake River they had buried a quantity of dried meat and other food, but when they arrived there they discovered that the redskins had found out its whereabouts, had dug it up, and had carried it away. It was growing cold, but they pressed forward with renewed courage, and entered a country which was free from game, so that again they were threatened with the dangers of starvation. Besides this, it was the land of the Crow Indians, who were terrific thieves and who soon discovered the presence of the little band of trappers. The sharp eyes of McLellan—well used to watching game—were not long in discovering the presence of the Indians.
“Look out boys,” said he. “I notice some of the red varmints hovering near by and suspect that we will be attacked before long. Look to the priming of your rifles and have plenty of ammunition handy. Be on your guard!”
The trappers gave good heed to this warning and redoubled their guards around the camp at nightfall. It was well that they did so, for, on the very next day, a large band of red men rode up to their halting-place, all fully armed with spears and arrows.
“Ugh! Ugh!” said the spokesman. “Where are my white brothers going?”
McLellan answered for the trappers that they were upon a peaceful errand and would not molest the red men, if they in turn would do them no harm. As he spoke, the redskins looked carefully at the men of the frontier, and, seeing them well armed and ready for business, decided not to attack. But they travelled with them for six whole days, quietly stealing any little articles that they could find, and, on the evening of the sixth day, ran off all the horses of the trappers in a mad stampede. The white adventurers were in a desperate situation.