My feet were covered with a pair of good shoes, and the chiefs brother-in-law gave me a pair of stockings from his stores, which I gladly accepted, never, for a moment, suspecting that, in doing thus, I was outraging a custom of the people among whom I was. The chief saw the gift, and made no remark at the time, but soon after he shot one of his brother-in-law’s horses, which he objected to in a decided manner, and a quarrel ensued. Realizing that I was the cause of the disagreement, I tremblingly watched the contest, unable to conciliate either combatant, and dreading the wrath of both. The chief would brook no interference, nor would he offer any reparation for the wrong he had inflicted. His brother-in-law, enraged at his arrogance, drew his bow, and aimed his arrow at my heart, determined to have satisfaction for the loss of his horse. I could only cry to God for mercy, and prepare to meet the death which had long hung over my head, when a young Blackfoot, whose name was Jumping Bear, saved me from the approaching doom by dexterously snatching the bow from the savage and hurling it to the earth. He was named Jumping Bear from the almost miraculous dexterity of some of his feats. This circumstance and the Indian mentioned were, in my judgment, instruments in the hand of Providence, in saving Fort Sully from the vengeance and slaughter of the Blackfeet, who had succeeded in gaining the confidence of some of the officers on the Missouri River. His activity in the attack on our train, and the energy he displayed in killing and pillaging on that occasion, notwithstanding his efforts to make me believe the contrary, forbade me to think there was any sympathy in his interference in my behalf. The Indian submitted to his intervention so far that he did not draw his bow again, and my suspense was relieved, for the time, by the gift of a horse from the chief to his brother-in-law, which calmed the fury of the wronged Indian. It happened that the animal thus given as a peace-offering was the pack horse that pulled so uncomfortably against the leading rein, and thus, in the end, I gained, by the ordeal through which I had passed, in being relieved of a most unmanageable task. From the first, I was deprived of every ameliorating comfort that might have rendered my existence bearable. No tent was spread for me, no rug, or coverlet, offered me to lie on. The hard earth, sparsely spread with grass, furnished me a couch, and apprehension and regret deprived me of the rest my toilsome life demanded. They offered me no food, and at first I did not dare to ask for it. This was partly owing to the absence of all natural appetite, an intense weakness and craving constantly for drink being the only signs of the prolonged fast that annoyed me.