OCR Text |
Show 224 THE CALIFORNIA AND OREGON TRAIL. who are unacquainted ·with Indians, it may seem strange that our chief apprehensions arose from the supposed proximity of the people whom we intended to visit. Had any struggling par. ty of these faithful friends caught sight of us from the hill-top, they would probably have returned in the night to plunder us of our horses and perhaps of our scalps. But we were on the prairie, where the genius loci is at war with all nervous appre. hensions; and I presume that neither Raymond nor I thought twice of the matter that evening. . While he was looking after the animals, I sat by the fire engaged in the novel task of baking bread. The utensils were of the most simple and primitive kind, consisting of two sticks inclining ove1· the bed of coals, one end thrust into the ground while the dough was twisted in a spiral form round the other. Under such circumstances all the epicurean in a man's nature is apt to awaken within him. I revisited in fancy the far distant abodes of good fare, not indeed Frascati's, or the Trois Freres Prove n<;aux, f(o r th · at were too extreme a flight; but no other than the homely table of my old friend and host, Tom Crawford of the Wh't M t · B . . ' 1 e oun ams. y a smgular revulswn, Tom himself. whom I w 11 b . ' e remem er to have looked upon as the Impersonation of all th t · 'ld . a Is WI and backwoodsman-hke, now appeared before m th · · . e as e mm1ster1ng angel of comfort and good livina Be1· .r. t' d d o· ng 1a 1gue an drowsy, I began to doze, and my thoughts foil w· h · . . ' o mg t e same train of assoCJatwn, as-sumed another form H If d . . · a - reammg, I saw myself surrounded With the mountains of New England, alive with water-falls, their black crags cinctured with milk-white mists. For this reverie I paid a speedy penalty ; for the bread was black on one side and soft on the other. HUNTING INDIANS. 225 For eight hours Raymond and I, pillowed on our saddles, lay insensible as logs. Pauline'~ yellow head was stretched over me when I awoke. I got up and examined her. I-Ier feet indeed were bruised and swollen by the accidents of yesterday, but her eye was brighter, her motions livelier, and her mysterious malady had visibly abated. We moved on, hoping within an hour to come in sight of the Indian village ; but again disappointment awaited us. The trail disappeared, melting away upon a hard and stony plain. Raymond and I separating, rode from side to side, scrutinizing every yard of ground, until at length I discerned traces of the lodge-poles, passing by the side of a ridge of rocks. We began again to follow them. 'What is that black spot out there on the prairie ?' 'It looks like a dead buffalo,' answered Raymond. We rode out to it, and found it to be the huge carcass of a bull killed by the hunters as they had passed. Tangled hair and scraps of hide were scattered all around, for the wolves had been making merry over it, and had hollowed out the entire carcass. It was covered with myriads of large black crickets, and from its appearance must certainly have lain there for four or five days. The sight was a most disheartening one, and I observed to Raymond that the Indians might still be fifty or sixty miles before us. But he shook his head, and replied that they dared not go so far for fear of their enemies, the Snakes. Soon after this we lost the trail again, and ascended a neighboring ridge, totally at a loss. Before us lay a plain perfectly flat, spreading on the right and left, without apparent limit, and bounded in fi·ont by a long broken line of hills, ten or twelve |