"Oui!" added George Drouillard, the hunter. "Mebbe fat dog feast, too!"
"Oh, murther!" gasped Pat. And, to Peter: "Did ye ever eat dog, Peter?"
Peter shook his head, disgusted. Not he; nor the Otoes, either. Only the northern Indians ate dog.
"There's a t'arin' lot of 'em, anyhow," mused Patrick Gass. "I'm after wishin' George was here. Sure, he's like to get into trouble, wanderin' about the country where all those fellows are."
For two days back George Shannon had been sent out to find the horses that had strayed from camp, and he had not returned.
The Sioux made a brave sight indeed. They looked to be almost a hundred—ahorse and afoot, with gay streamers and blankets flying. Pierre Dorion and Sergeant Pryor and Private Potts were to be seen, mounted and riding with the principal chiefs in the advance. So evidently everything was all right.
They halted on the bank opposite the United States camp. Sergeant Pryor waved his hat, and the captains send the red pirogue across for him. He and Pierre and Private Potts returned in it. They brought with them young Pierre, who was old Pierre's son. He was half Sioux, and traded among the Tetons; but just now he was visiting among the Yanktons.
"They are friendly, are they, Sergeant?" inquired Captain Lewis.
"Yes, sir. They treated us very handsomely, and
