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 Most of the saddles and all the horses except two were delivered. These two, said Broken-arm, had been stolen last fall by old Toby and his son on their way back to Chief Ca-me-ah-wait. There now were sixty-five horses on hand—enough for the baggage and for the men. Everybody might ride. So much food had been purchased, that buttons (as Pat had predicted) were being traded in, and John Shields, blacksmith, was making awls out of the links of a beaver-trap chain.

"We must start on, or we won't reach Fort Mandan before winter," announced Captain Lewis.

"No, no," objected Twisted-hair and Sky, and all. "Too much snow. Much water come down. The trail over the mountains is not open. Wait till the next full moon, and the snows will have melted."

"The salmon will soon be running up the river. Wait, and you shall have food," said Cut-nose.

"If the white chiefs are hungry, let them kill and eat my horses," said Chief Ho-has-til-pilp, the Red Wolf, with a wave of his arm.

"We thank the Red Wolf. But we shall need guides. Will the chiefs send some young men with us, to show us the way over the mountains?" asked Captain Lewis.

"When there is grass for the horses, on the Road-to-the-Buffalo, we will send young men," promised Chief Broken-arm. "But not until after the grand council of all the Pierced Nose nation, on the Kamass