Page:The life and adventures of James P. Beckwourth, mountaineer, scout, pioneer, and chief of the Crow nation of Indians (IA lifeadventuresof00beckrich).pdf/290

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274
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

they always prided themselves in spotted horses, as Jacob of old took pride in spotted cattle. In that encampment it so little entered into their heads to anticipate molestation that they had placed no horse-guards to keep watch.

The noise of the horses in tearing through the pea-vines assisted us materially in our nocturnal enterprise. We selected two hundred and eighty of their largest, strongest, and handsomest cattle, with which we lost no time in making direct for Crow-land; nor did we venture to give rest to their hoofs until a journey, continued through three days and nights, placed what we considered a safe distance between us. We then ventured to encamp for the night, to afford to the poor tired-out animals an opportunity to rest for a while, but starting off at early dawn to preclude all possibility of recapture.

On the fifth day we discovered an Indian a short distance from our trail, who was coming in an oblique direction toward us, He stopped on the hill-side at some little distance off, and motioned for us to approach him. Supposing him to be a Crow, I desired my companions to drive on, while I went to see what he wanted. When I had approached within a few yards of him, he put on an air of surprise, and placed his hand to his shoulder with the intention of drawing his bow. I sprang upon him instantly and cut him down, and despoiled him of his scalp and quiver. When about to leave to overtake my companions, I perceived the distant smoke of a Black Foot village situated immediately in the direction that we were journeying, and it was beyond doubt that the Indian I had just killed was a spy belonging to that village. He must have mistaken us for some of his own tribe, and only discovered his mistake when I approached near enough for him to distinguish my features.

My companions returning to me, we altered our course, and passed over a mountain covered with deep snow, so hard, however, that we passed it without losing a horse. This was one of the spurs of the Rocky Mountains, and covered with perpetual snows.

After sixteen days of almost incessant travel day and night, we came in sight of our village just as the sun was sinking