“How will you make it boil?” asked Martin, lifting up the pot, and finding that the water was cold.
“All you have to do,” said Robin, who was sitting down close to the spot, “is to fill it with the hot stones. We will then rake the fire out of the hole, put the pot in and cover it up, and in a short time we shall have as good soup as you ever tasted.”
Bouncer, who seemed to take great interest in what was going on, drew near to examine the pot, and would have poked his nose in had not Martin given him a tap on the tip of it and sent him off somewhat ashamed of himself.
While Robin’s directions were being carried out, Alick and I prepared some of the bear’s meat for roasting, and cut up the remainder into slices to dry in the sun, intending also to smoke them well before we commenced our journey. Though the flesh of the old bear was not so tender as that of her cub, we ate it with no little relish.
“Leave some room for the soup,” exclaimed Robin; “that will be ready in a few minutes, and will do us more good than the roast meat. It’s a pity we cannot carry some with us.”
We accordingly stopped, and in a short time he produced the pot from the hole. In spite of the want of salt and vegetables, the soup was pronounced excellent. We fortunately had a couple of tin cups with which to ladle it out.
We were on the point of starting, when Robin asserted that he heard the tramp of horses. Putting our ears to the ground, we were convinced that he was right, and that the sound came from the north-west, the direction from which the wind was blowing. To attempt to hide would be useless, as the fire which was still burning would have betrayed us, even had the sharp eyes of the Indians not discovered our tracks. We could only hope, therefore, that they would prove friends, who would allow us to proceed on our way, even should they refuse to supply us with horses. We therefore, having seen to our firearms, remained where we were, with our backs to the wood, so that we might present as formidable an appearance as possible should the newcomers venture to attack us.
All hope of offering any effectual resistance, however, was dissipated when we saw coming round the edge of the wood a large band of half-naked warriors, armed with bows and arrows, their hair streaming over their backs—perfect savages in appearance.
“They are Crees of the plain,” exclaimed Robin, “and are, I think, on a hunting expedition. If we make friends with them they will not harm us, as they are generally well disposed towards the white men.”
The Crees saw us, and came galloping up, most of them flourishing their lances, while a chief who rode at their head held out his hand as a sign that he wished to be friends with us. The next minute we were almost surrounded by the wild-looking horsemen. The chief dismounted, and Alick advanced to shake hands. We all performed the same ceremony, and the chief then asked who we were and where we were going. Alick replied that our fort had been surprised and destroyed by the Blackfeet, and that we were on our way to Fort Ross to obtain a force for punishing the marauders.