The meeting was of the happiest nature, for the Lieutenant, in fact, was in greater danger than he suspected, the Indians around him being among the most treacherous of their race.
Those who have been placed in a situation resembling in a slight degree that of Fremont, can appreciate the interest with which he perused the letters and papers from his distant home.

After the parties had gone into camp, the Captain sat up till after midnight reading by the light of the camp fire.

Tired out at last, he stretched out with his blanket about him and sank soon into heavy slumber.
The night was cold, and Carson and Owens, with their saddle blankets wrapped around them, lay down close to the fire.

All at once Carson heard a peculiar noise, as though some one had struck a quick blow with an axe.

Wondering what it could mean, he called to one of the mountaineers.
"What's the matter over there ?" There was no answer, for the head of the poor fellow had been cleft by an axe in the hands of one of the Klamath Indians who had crept into camp.