I was not the man to flinch. "What I said I meant," I exclaimed, "and it makes no odds whether you heard it or not."
"You are an infernal scoundrel, and I'll shoot you;" and, suiting the action to the word, he cocked his piece and levelled it.
I cocked my rifle and presented it also, and then we stood at bay, looking each other direct in the eye.
"General," I at length said, "you have addressed language to me which I allow no man to use, and, unless you retract that last epithet, you or I must surely die."
He finally said, "I will acknowledge that it was language which never should be used to a man, but when I am angry I am apt to speak hastily. But," he added, "I will make you suffer for this."
"Not in your service, general," I replied. "You can take your horse now, and do what you please with him. I am going to return to St. Louis."
The general almost smiled at the idea.
"You will play going back to St. Louis," he said, "when, in truth, you were afraid of being killed by the Indians, through being left too far behind with that old horse."
I left general, horse, and pack, and started on to overtake the advanced party, in order to get my sadde-bags before leaving them. Approaching the party, I advanced to Fitzpatrick (in whose possession they were) and addressed him: "Hold up, Fitzpatrick; give me my saddle-bags. I am going to leave you, and return to St. Louis."
"What!" exclaimed he, "have you had more words with the general?"
"Yes," I replied, "words that will never be forgiven—by me, at least, in this life. I am bound to return."
"Well," said he, "wait till we encamp, a few hundred yards ahead. Your things are in the pack; when we stop you can get them."
I accompanied them till they encamped; then, taking my goods from the pack, I was getting ready to return, when the general came up.
Seeing me about to carry my threat into execution, he ad-
