Then I knew that the occupants of the dug-out, whence the voices proceeded, were white men.

Thinking that they might be a party of trappers, I boldly walked up to the door and knocked for admission.

The voices instantly ceased, and for a moment a deathlike silence reigned inside.

Then there seemed to follow a kind of hurried whispering--a sort of consultation--and then some one called out: "Who's there ?" "A friend and a white man," I replied.
The door opened, and a big, ugly-looking fellow stepped, forth and said: "Come in." I accepted the invitation with some degree of fear and hesitation, which I endeavored to conceal, as I saw that it was too late to back out, and that it would never do to weaken at that point, whether they were friends or foes.

Upon entering the dug-out my eyes fell upon eight as rough and villainous looking men as I ever saw in my life.