"Can they get to the rear of our position by any other way than up this river?" asked Lieutenant Jackson.
"Yes, sir, they can. They may go up Bear River to the lake, and cross the country to the Fish," I replied. "But there are rapids between the lake and the Missouri, and they would have to carry their boat half a mile."
"Then I must put a guard at the mouth of the Bear."
"It will be the safest way," I added, as the soldier returned with my team.
We drove back to the Castle, and I put up the horses. The lieutenant sent a corporal and two men to the mouth of Bear River, two miles below the Castle; and I was satisfied that the three Indians could not possibly join the band which was moving down the Fish. We went into the house together, where a cheerful fire of pitch wood was blazing on the hearth. Poor Ella had dropped asleep, and her father and mother sat by her bedside watching her heaving chest. They were very anxious about her, though Mr. Gracewood declared that she suffered only from exhaustion, and that rest would restore her.
The lieutenant read the order I had brought to him, and we left the Castle, so as not to disturb Ella. By this time I was willing to believe I was tired myself. I thought it must be nearly daylight, and was surprised when the officer told me it was only twelve o'clock. It seemed to me that I had lived a whole year since sundown. I was invited to sleep in the lieutenant's tent, and I did sleep there in good earnest till long after sunrise the next morning, when a soldier called me.
"We are about ready to start, Phil," said Mr. Jackson. "My orders say you are to be my guide."
"I must take care of my horses and pigs, and eat my breakfast."
"My men have fed your horses, and cleaned them. I thought you would be very tired, and I had your work done for you," said the lieutenant.
"I was tired—that's a fact; but I am as good as new now."