r of death. Already while we gazed, the fire spread
over the whole creek bottom, and passed rapidly both up and down the
banks of the stream.

For ourselves there was no danger. We were up on the open prairie
covered only with short grass. Had this caught also, we knew how to
save ourselves; but the upper level, separated by a steep bluff, was not
reached by the conflagration that raged so fiercely below.

We stood watching the flames for a long while, until daylight broke.
The bottom, near where we were, had ceased to burn, and now lay beneath
us, smoking, smouldering, and black. We descended, and picked our steps
to where our camp had stood. The tents were like black cerements. The
iron work of the waggon alone remained, our extra clothing and
provisions were all consumed. Even the produce of our yesterday's hunt
lay among the ashes a charred and ruined mass!

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

A SUPPER OF WOLF-MUTTON.

Our condition was now lamentable indeed. We even hungered for our
breakfast, and had nothing to eat. The fire had consumed everything. A
party went to look for the remains of the buffalo-bull killed by the
guides, but returned without a morsel of meat. The wolves had cleaned
the carcass to a skeleton. The marrow bones, however, still remained,
and these were brought in--afterwards, the same parts of the four cows;
and we made our breakfast on marrow--eating it raw--not but that we had
fire enough, but it is less palatable when cooked.

What was next to be done? We held a consultation, and of course came to
the resolve to strike for the nearest settlement--that was the frontier
town of Independence on the Missouri River. It was nearly three hundred
miles off, and we calculated in reaching it in about twenty days. We
only reckoned the miles we should have to traverse. We allowed nothing
for the numerous delays, caused by marshes and the fording of flooded
streams. It afterwards proved that our calculation was incorrect. It
was nearly twice twenty days before we arrived at Independence.

We never thought of following the trail of the Indians to recover our
horses. We knew they were gone far beyond pursuit, but even could we
have come up with them, it would only have been to imperil our lives in
an unequal strife. We gave up our horses as lost, and only deliberated
on how we were to undertake the journey afoot.

Here a serious question arose. Should we at once turn our faces to the
sett