At length he reached the edge of the clump; upon his hands and knees he crept forward, parting the undergrowth and low hanging limbs that his body might slip noiselessly through. Finally he sighted the camp, and as he did so he settled down with a quick intake of the breath. Two large fires were burning; and at each was roasting a butchered horse. A company of painted savages, full armed and with the feathers of their war bonnets hanging down their backs, were grouped about. A couple of lodges, strengthened so as to be used as places of defense in case of need, were erected at one side; a little distance away were tethered the horses stolen from the camp of Captain Gaunt, minus the two roasting to provide a feast for the Crows. Usually keen to suspect the proximity of a foe, the Indians now displayed surprising laxity. Perhaps the great distance they had put between themselves and the trappers was the cause of this; they thought themselves beyond the reach of pursuit, and so were giving themselves up to the enjoyment of their enterprise. Kit watched them for some time; then as the shadows began to thicken, he crept away across the stretch of prairie to the place where he had left his friends. “It’s the party we are after,” said he. “I saw the horses. The reds are making preparations for a big feast, and haven’t any thought of danger.” “Feasting, eh?” said old Zeke. “Well, boys, it seems to me we ought to have a little to say in these festivities. Captain Gaunt reckons on a trifle of powder being burned by way of protest against horse-stealing in general, and it’s as little as we can do to go according to his will.” At nightfall the sound of barbaric song came across the prairie; and as the trappers stole toward the Indian camp they saw the red glow of the fires, and through the trees the swaying, contorting forms of the warriors going through a savage dance of triumph. The Indians had come from the north with their booty of horse-flesh, and from the north alone they looked for pursuit; the trappers knew that this would be the case, so they took care to approach the camp from another side. When close enough to see all that went on at the camp-fires of the Crows, they crouched down in sheltered places and waited for the end of the feast. It was a cold night, and there was some snow upon the ground. And as they waited the whites grew chilled and stiff; their limbs quaked and their teeth chattered. But when the braves had finally eaten their fill and danced themselves tired they laid themselves down to sleep; and soon a torpor overtook the camp. This was the time for which the trappers had been waiting; Kit, with five others, slipped away to the place where the horses were grouped, freed, and drove them away. Some little distance away the remainder of the party joined them; then a council in low pitched voices was held as to what was the next step.