He knew the chances of his survival were slight, but the overwhelming guilt at being the last man left alive, had pushed him to the brink of insanity. Gabriel calmly looked around himself with a half-smile on his bearded face. After two months of travel he was the last of the twelve men who had left Saint Louis in search of furs. He had, in fact, been part of a small army, the 1838 Ronson expedition. Gabriel Traynor, also known as Cemetery Traynor, reportedly because he carried so much firepower he could start his own cemetery, rode into the Souix camp as calmly as a general at the head of an army. The lone footsteps of 6 horses was almost downed out by the common sounds of the camp. The sigh of nearby weeping willows added a sad note to the wind.
The tall grass blew in the brisk wind, hissing and sighing.
Two boys kept the herd in place as the men rode off to the North in search of more horses. Men herded ponies into an area West of the camp. Women shared a common task, in a group at one side of the village, in front of a cluster of teepees.
More children played in the nearby river. Children played in the center of the village. Clouds blew shadows over the white, brightly decorated teepees of a large Souix village.
