He replied that he did. I asked him if he intended to kill the boy
who had been his children's playmate. He consulted with his warriors,
who had begun busily to loot the cabin. After a long parley the old man
told me that my life would be spared, but my gun and pistol and all my
provisions would be regarded as the spoils of the war.
Vainly I pointed out that he might as well kill me as leave me without
food or the means to defend myself against wolves. He said that his
young men had granted a great deal in consenting to spare my life. As
for food, he pointed to the carcass of a deer that hung from the wall.
The next morning they mounted their ponies and galloped away. I was
glad enough to see them go. I knew that my life had hung by a thread
while I had been their involuntary host. Only my friendship with the
children of old Rain-in-the-Face had saved me.
But, even with the Indians gone, I was in a desperate situation. As
they had taken all my matches I had to keep the fire going
continuously. This meant that I could not sleep long at a time, the
lack of rest soon began to tell on me. I would cut slices from the deer
carcass with my knife, and holding it over the fire with a long stick,
cook it, eating it without salt. Coffee I must do without altogether.
The second day after the departure of the Indians a great snow fell.
The drifts blocked the doorway and covered the windows.
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