"In the first place, two rivers cross the valley; that near you flows from the mountains of the Wind; the other, into which it discharges its waters, is the Missouri."
"Heavens! The Missouri! Then it runs through part of the United States. We are at home."
"Very nearly, though you are surrounded by red men, who, though very warlike, are generally friendly to the whites. Still, if you know the redskins you will not depend on them."
"Too true; and what nations are they?" he asked.
"Sioux and Dakotas, Piekanns, Crows, Hurons of the great lakes, with some Assiniboins and Mandans. A few others of no account are scattered about," he answered.
"A pretty lot; and no help near."
"Help is nearer than you think. About fifty miles distant is a fort belonging to one of the great fur companies. It has a garrison of fifty whites—Americans and Canadians, soldiers and hunters."
"Fifty miles is nothing," said Samuel.
"In a civilised country, yes; but in the desert it is as bad as fifty leagues," responded Clinton.
"I did not think of that," granted the squatter; "well, then, on the other side, what neighbours have we?"