They were easily prevailed upon to come to the camp, where they were well received, and, after remaining there until late in the evening, departed to make a report of all they had seen and experienced to their companions.
The following day had scarce dawned, when a troop of these wild mountain scamperers came galloping with whoops and yells into the camp, bringing an invitation from their chief for the white men to visit him.

The tents were accordingly struck, the horses laden, and the party were soon on the march.

The Crow horsemen, as they escorted them, appeared to take pride in showing off their equestrian skill and hardihood; careering at full speed on their half-savage steeds, and dashing among rocks and crags, and up and down the most rugged and dangerous places with perfect ease and unconcern.
A ride of sixteen miles brought them, in the afternoon, in sight of the Crow camp.

It was composed of leathern tents, pitched in a meadow on the border of a small clear stream at the foot of the mountain.

A great number of horses were grazing in the vicinity, many of them doubtless captured in marauding excursions.
The Crow chieftain came forth to meet his guests with great professions of friendship, and conducted them to his tents, pointing out, by the way, a convenient place where they might fix their camp.