They accordingly took up their
line of march down the course of the Missouri, keeping the main
Blackfoot trail, and tramping doggedly forward, without stopping to set
a single trap. The others beat the hoof after them for some time, but
by degrees began to perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, and
getting into a country perfectly barren to the trapper. They now came
to a halt, and be-thought themselves how to make up for lost time, and
improve the remainder of the season. It was thought best to divide their
forces and try different trapping grounds. While Dripps went in one
direction, Vanderburgh, with about fifty men, proceeded in another.
The latter, in his headlong march had got into the very heart of the
Blackfoot country, yet seems to have been unconscious of his danger. As
his scouts were out one day, they came upon the traces of a recent band
of savages. There were the deserted fires still smoking, surrounded
by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. It was evident a party
of Blackfeet had been frightened from their hunting camp, and had
retreated, probably to seek reinforcements. The scouts hastened back to
the camp, and told Vanderburgh what they had seen. He made light of the
alarm, and, taking nine men with him, galloped off to reconnoitre for
himself. He found the deserted hunting camp just as they had represented
it; there lay the carcasses of buffaloes, partly dismembered; there
were the smouldering fires, still sending up their wreaths of smoke;
everything bore traces of recent and hasty retreat; and gave reason to
believe that the savages were still lurking in the neighborhood.
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