The very first mile o' the way back I began to mend, and before two days I wos all right again." Joe was interrupted at this point by the sudden appearance of a solitary horseman on the brow of an eminence not half-a-mile distant.
The three friends instantly drove their pack-horses behind a clump of trees; but not in time to escape the vigilant eye of the Red-man, who uttered a loud shout, which brought up a band of his comrades at full gallop.
"Remember, Henri," cried Joe Blunt, "our errand is one of _peace_." The caution was needed, for in the confusion of the moment Henri was making preparation to sell his life as dearly as possible.

Before another word could be uttered, they were surrounded by a troop of about twenty yelling Blackfeet Indians.

They were, fortunately, not a war party, and, still more fortunately, they were peaceably disposed, and listened to the preliminary address of Joe Blunt with exemplary patience; after which the two parties encamped on the spot, the council fire was lighted, and every preparation made for a long palaver.
We will not trouble the reader with the details of what was said on this occasion.

The party of Indians was a small one, and no chief of any importance was attached to it.

Suffice it to say that the pacific overtures made by Joe were well received, the trifling gifts made thereafter were still better received, and they separated with mutual expressions of good-will.
Several other bands which were afterwards met with were equally friendly, and only one war party was seen.