It was in the toilsome ascent of these precipitous heights that they encountered one of those dangers which D'Erlach had striven so earnestly to elude. This was a meeting with the Indians, in any force. A body of more than forty of them were met descending one of the gorges up which the Frenchmen were painfully making their way. The meeting was the signal for the strife. The war-whoop was given almost in the moment when the parties discovered each other. The Indians had the superiority as well in position as in numbers; being on an elevation considerably above that of the Frenchmen. They were a large, fine-limbed race of savages, clad in skins, and armed with bows and stone-hatchets. They had probably never beheld the white man before, and knew nothing of his fearful weapons. They were astounded by the explosion of the arquebuse, and when their chief tumbled from the cliff on which he stood, stricken by an invisible bolt, they fled in terror, leaving the field to the Frenchmen. But, three of the latter were slain in the conflict, and three others wounded. The path was free for their progress, but they went forward with diminished numbers, and sinking hearts. The survivors were now but ten, and these were hurt and suffering from sore, if not fatal, injuries. The cold increased. The savages seemed to have housed themselves from the fury of the winds, that rushed and howled along the bleak terraces to which the Frenchmen had arisen. They buried themselves in a valley that offered them partial protection, built their fires, raised a miserable hovel of poles and bushes for their covering, and sent out their hunters. Two parties, one of two, the other of three men, went forth in pursuit of a bear whose tracks they had detected; leaving five to keep the camp, three of whom were wounded men. Of these two parties, one returned at night, bringing home a turkey. They had failed to discover the hiding-place of the bear. The other did not reappear all night. Trumpets were sounded and guns fired from the camp to guide their footsteps, but without success; and with the dawn Alphonse D'Erlach set forth with his brother and another, one Philip le Borne, to seek the fugitives. Their tracks were found and followed for a weary distance; lost and again found. Pursued over ridge and valley, in a zigzag and ill-directed progress, showing that the lost party had been distracted by their apprehensions. This pursuit led the hunters greatly from the camp; but D'Erlach had made his observations carefully at every step, and knew well that he could regain the spot. He had provided himself well with such food as they possessed, and his little party was well armed. He refused to discontinue the search, particularly as they still recovered the tracks of the missing men. For two days they searched without ceasing, camping by night, and crouching in the shelter of some friendly rock that kept off the wind, and building themselves fires