It will be recalled that a short while before the incident related, Shagbark had started off on a reconnaissance of his own. Assured as he was that the Indians of whom he had caught glimpses during the afternoon, and the reports of whose guns he had heard not far away, were drawing near the camp with the most sinister designs, he set out to checkmate them so far as it was possible. He could not trust all his sentinels as he would have liked to trust them, and he hoped to anticipate the attack of their foes. Shagbark dreaded that they might rush the camp――that is, dash right in among the wagons and animals and slay on every hand. This was giving them credit for a courage which the American Indian rarely shows; but if the dozen whom the hunter had seen were the advance of a more numerous party, it was by no means impossible that this risk would be taken. Another policy to be feared almost as much was that the warriors would gallop up and fire into the camp, circling off again until they could reload and repeat their attack. The discharge would be quite sure to kill or wound some of the oxen and horses. It was not improbable, too, that, despite the protection of those on guard, the whistling bullets would find some of them. The guide thought that by venturing out on the plains he might get a glimpse of their enemies and penetrate their plans. Could he do so, possibly he might take steps to baffle them. Several ways presented themselves to his fertile mind. The situation was one which called for all the woodcraft of which he was master. Naturally gifted in this respect, he had been educated in the best of all schools――experience. Those who had trapped and hunted with him agreed that he had no superior, and never was he more anxious to succeed than now. Leaving the wagon on the north, he walked toward the Platte, which flowed only two or three hundred yards away. He stooped low and moved slowly, halting every few paces, peering round in the moonlight and listening intently. Instead of being bothered by the shifting light, he was aided by it. When the moon was obscured he hurried forward, taking care to pause and stoop before the full light streamed out again. The course of the hunter was diagonal to that of the river, and gradually took him toward it. He was still fifty paces away, when his keen hearing told him something. It was such a plash as is made by a fish leaping above the surface and falling back again. That probably was the cause, and yet it was possible it had more significance than that.