feel
myself capable of; I really believe that if any other course were open
to me, I had never turned my steps back toward the camp. Crest-fallen
and sad indeed was I as I rode forward,--now cursing the insubordinate
rabble that deserted me; now inveighing against my own silly efforts
to change the ferocious instincts of such natures. In my bitterness of
spirit I attributed all to my foolish ambition of being "the gentleman."
What business had such a character there? or what possible link could
bind him to such companionship? In my discontent, too, I fancied that
these "gentlemen" traits were like studding-sails, only available in
fine weather and with a fair wind, but that for the storms and squalls
of life such fine-spun canvas was altogether unsuited. Is it needful I
should say that I lived to discover this to be an error?

To reach the camp ere nightfall, I was obliged to ride fast, and the
quick stride of my "half-breed" did more to rally my spirits than all my
philosophizings.

The slight breeze of sunset was blowing over the prairie, when I came
in sight of the skirting of nut-wood which sheltered the camp to the
"south'ard." It was like home, somehow, that spot. The return to it each
evening had given it that character, and one's instincts are invariably
at work to make substitutes for all the "prestiges" that tell of family
and friends. I experienced the feeling strongly now, as I entered the
wood and spurred my nag onward, impatient to catch a glimpse at the
watch-fires. As I issued from the copse, and looked up towards the
little table-land where the camp used to stand, I saw nothing that spoke
of my friends. There were no fires; not a figure moved on the spot. I
pressed eagerly forward to ascertain the reason, my mind full of its
own explanation of the fact, in which, I own it, fears were already
blending. Perhaps they had removed somewhat higher up the stream;
perhaps the Camanches had been there, and a battle had been fought;
perhaps--But why continue? Already I stood upon the spreading surface of
tableland, and was nearing the spot where all our huts were built, and
now a deep, booming noise filled my ears,--a hollow, cavernous sound,
like the sea surging within some rocky cave. I listened; it grew fuller
and louder, or seemed to do so, and I could mark sounds that resembled
the crashing of timber and the splintering of rocks.

My suspense had now risen to torture, and my poor mustang, equally
frighte