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Updated: June 12, 2025
The poor beaver-hunters saw the on-coming, knew their danger and instantly huddled their horses and began dropping their packs. They had selected a slight knoll of the prairie and before many minutes had a rude barricade constructed with their packages. Dropping behind this they awaited the Indians with freshly primed rifles and pistols.
And a gallant sight they made as they rode gaily out; in their white robes, their long plaited hair flying, their best horses prancing under them and decorated with red streamers. Chief Grizzly Bear led. Chief Long-hair, now almost eighty years of age, was with another band. In this Chief Grizzly Bear band there rode a party of white beaver-hunters who were to spend the winter with the Crows.
The white beaver-hunters, not wishing to anger the Blackfeet, and curious to see what was about to happen, withdrew to a clump of cedar trees, about two hundred yards from the fort. The white men had decided to be spectators, in a grand-stand. Presently Chief Grizzly Bear and his chiefs seemed to have agreed upon a plan of battle.
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