The road was one made by buffalo, but it also was one used by the Indians; and according to the moccasins found upon it, and the traces of lodge-poles, an Arapahoe village must be travelling, before. The lieutenant and Kit and all hoped that a meeting might be avoided; but on the morning of June 18 Archambeau and Godey, among the scouts ahead, from a butte shook a blanket, as signal of Indians in sight!
“Close up, close up!” warned the lieutenant and Joe Walker; and in response to the word transmitted adown the line Thomas Fitzpatrick hastened his pack-train. The flankers drew in a little; and at faster pace proceeded the company, as a hollow square, animals in centre.
“Thar they come,” announced Kit. “’Rapahoes, too. Humph! Treat ’em as well as we can an’ get rid of ’em quick as we can. They’ll be spoiling for a fight.”
Along the valley were trudging and riding about thirty Indians, both women and men. They boldly met the company, and demanded presents. They claimed that they were going into the hills after roots and game; but instead, as the cavalcade resumed the march, the bucks wheeled around and galloped back in the direction where they said they had left their village.
“We’d better be forting,” counselled Joe Walker. “Did you know any of ’em, Kit?”
“Never saw one of ’em at Bent’s, as I remember,” confessed Kit.
Down to the Grand River hurried the company, and to some willows between the channel and an overflowed meadow. They had no time to fort further, even by piling up their packs, when on came again the Arapahoes, fully 200, painted and flourishing weapons and apparently eager for a fight.
“Set that flag out, in front, somebody who talks Arapahoe, and tell them if they pass it, we fire,” ordered the lieutenant.
Alexander Godey grabbed it; but Kit Carson rode out with him. They planted the staff in the moist ground, and standing by the Stars and Stripes signed to the Indians to halt. Kit shouted the instructions. Two of the Indians rode forward, in token of parley.
“One o’ them’s a Sioux,” asserted Thomas Fitzpatrick. “Isn’t that so, Auguste?”