And plainly there was a lot of them.
When we reached Clear Creek, another tributary of the Powder, we saw horses grazing on the opposite bank.

Horses meant Indians.

Never before had the redskins been followed so far into their own country.

Not dreaming that they would be pursued they had failed to put out scouts.
We quickly got the "lay" of their camp, and held a council to decide on how to attack them.

We knew that they outnumbered us three to one--perhaps more.