He led his party almost north; this course they held until they reached the head waters of the Platte. Winter was now upon them in the midst of the mountains; the snow filled the defiles, the icy wind moaned in the naked trees and among the crags. But besides their buckskins the trappers now wore thick furs; and the warm blood of a vigorous life in the hills and on the prairies made the experience only one of increased pleasure to the hardy border men. At each camp enough “half faced” houses were erected to shelter the men from the wind and snow. These were made of boughs, barks and skins and were of three sides and a roof. The front was open, toward the fire; the men slept on fur robes or blankets, their feet turned to the blazing logs. The Platte was followed slowly, the party taking furs all the way to the Sweet Water, one of its tributaries; and this stream in turn was trapped until they reached Green River. From there they progressed to Jackson’s Hole, a fork of the Columbia; then on to the Salmon River where a part of their own band, which had left Taos some days in advance, joined them. Old Zeke Matthews was among these new men; and at once Kit and the boys began questioning him with regard to any news which he might have heard of Gaunt’s men. “Nothing at all,” replied the old fellow. “A couple of Injuns came into camp one night and told us that some trappers were at work a little west of us; but from what they said I’m pretty nigh sure they were Sinclair’s party who left about the same time we did.” The entire Fitzpatrick expedition now having gathered, a group of warm huts was erected in a sunny valley, protected from the sweep of the winds; and as the trappers meant to spend the remainder of the winter there, they were at more pains to arrange the camp, and make themselves comfortable. Most of the time in this long encampment was spent in dressing pelts and mending and making equipment and clothing. The only hunting done was for food. They were in the country of the Blackfeet, a daring nation of red marauders, but because of the cold the trappers did not expect any troublesome attention from them. “They’ll stick to their lodges,” said Zeke; “the varmints don’t like hard weather.” But that they had all reckoned without the wile of the red man and his desire for the property of the whites was soon made evident. A herd of buffalo was sighted one day on a plain, and a party of four of the trappers mounted and went in pursuit. Just how their fate overtook them will never be known; but that it was sudden and dreadful was plain to their comrades. A band of Indians dashed down upon them and all four lost their lives. Vengeance shook the camp on the Salmon River; in a fury the trappers armed; but for all their swiftness the savages escaped; not even an eagle plume was seen; and their tracks were lost in the falling snow.