Trouble came rather sooner than he expected. The fort was not yet finished when twelve Piegan Indians appeared on foot from across the mountains. A month later twenty-three more arrived. These set up their tents along with the others just outside the gates. For over two months they hung about the stockade, making themselves very objectionable, and forcing the garrison to remain together within the walls. But Thompson had a small stock of dried provisions on hand, and he put his men on short rations, so that there might be no need to scatter over the country for hunting. For water, he let down two large kettles nightly from the steep river bank and this was enough for the daily needs of the post. Towards the end of October, two of the Indians disappeared from the group, and the garrison feared a general attack. Nothing, however, materialized, and before winter set in, the savages drifted quietly away. Yet their peril was not yet over. One morning, two more Piegans presented themselves at the fort. Thompson was anxious, but he did not flinch. He showed them the strength of his stockades and bastions, the walls bored with loopholes for his muskets. "I know," he said, "that you are come as spies and intend to destroy us, but many of you will die before you succeed. Go back to your countrymen and tell them this." At the same time, he loaded them with presents of tobacco for their friends. A fortunate circumstance hastened their departure. Two of the Kootenay Indians came to the fort while they were there, and when they saw the Piegans, they glared at them like tigers. Meanwhile the little garrison watched and waited, six hardy voyageurs ready to die if necessary in order to make good the words of their chief. And while they waited, winter came on, covering the mountains with snow and placing them in safety. It was some time before Thompson learned the details of his escape. The two Piegans were, as he guessed, the advanced guard of a large war party that was being formed at the instigation of the civil chief to crush the white men and the natives to the west side of the mountains before they became well armed. The war chief (Thompson's old friend Kootanae Appee) had opposed this venture. How, he urged, could they smoke to the Great Spirit for success, if without warning they invaded the lands of a people with whom for ten summers they had been at peace? Such, however, was the influence of the wilder spirits, that the old war chief was compelled to yield to their will.