As we turned, it seemed to our straining ears that snakes rattled upon all sides of us.
"Go slowly!" Pitamakan cautioned. "Stamp the ground hard, and keep swinging your rifle out in front of you."
Thus step by step we drew away from the rattlers, fearing all the time that we should encounter one that would strike before warning us of its presence.
At last we came to Is-spai-u, a dim shadow in the darkness, and took up his rope and led him on to the other picketed animal. Our scare was still with us as we went among the horses and removed their hobbles, but, getting into our saddles, we drove the stock on for fully a mile. Before hobbling them again, we circled round and round and made sure that we were not occupying another patch of snake-infested plain.
"Well, we survived that danger! I believe it is a sign that we are not to be bitten by the two-legged snakes that will soon attack us," said Pitamakan after we had spread our robe and were resting comfortably upon it.
Since I was no believer in signs, I did not say anything on the subject.
"You sleep; I'll take the first watch," I told him.
The heavy clouds soon disappeared, the moon came up, and I could see our surroundings very well. The horses were ripping off great mouthfuls of rich bunch-grass and lustily chewing it. Their deep, satisfied breathing gave me a glad feeling. All round us wolves were howling and coyotes were yelping in high falsetto voices. How different were these two branches of the great wolf family, I thought. The wolves were of a serious, dignified nature; they seemed never to howl except to communicate with one another. The coyotes gathered in bands and wandered aimlessly from ridge to ridge, stopping frequently and raising their sharp, pointed noses to the sky and yelping.
My thoughts were not long upon the wolves. I remembered how worried my uncle was when I had left our lodge; how serious was the expression of Abbott's eyes when he predicted that the attack by the cut-throats was about to take place.
I stared at the faint, moonlit outlines of the Moccasin Mountains, away off to the southwest. Somewhere along the trail at the foot of them the Pikuni were doubtless camping that night. Unwittingly I cried out in Blackfoot, "Oh, hurry! Hurry to us, you men of the Pikuni, else you will come too late!"