cabin, in which I had hoped to pass the night.
My prairie experience assured me that I had not lost the "trail," and
yet if any light were burning for miles around, the elevated spot on
which I stood should make it visible. Although much fatigued, there was
nothing for it but to proceed, and at length I found myself in a narrow
valley which Seth had heard described as the situation in which the
miner's hut stood. It was dark and gloomy; but the hope that I was
nearing the spot cheered me, and I walked on, footsore and tired as I
was. Once or twice I thought I heard the bark of a dog. I stopped to
listen; I shouted aloud, I whistled, but to no end. After an interval,
however, the sounds were repeated, and now I could detect,--not the
bark,--but the low, plaintive wail of an animal seemingly in pain. As it
not unfrequently happens that the sheep-dogs are attacked by wolves, it
immediately occurred to me such might be the present case; so I looked
to the caps of my revolver, and hastened on in the direction of the
cries.

The wailing sounds grew fuller and louder as I advanced, and now I could
distinguish that they were the cries of an animal in grief, and not of
one in bodily pain. I increased my speed to the utmost, and suddenly I
felt the warm tongue of a dog touch my hand, and his tail brush my legs,
in sign of friendly welcome. I stopped to pat and caress him, but the
poor creature uttered another cry so full of sorrow that all other
thoughts were routed on the instant.

He now preceded me, turning at each moment as if to see that I followed,
and whining in a low, faint tone, as before. We had not long proceeded
thus, when he stopped suddenly, and set up a cry the most shrill and
heart-thrilling. I saw that we were in front of a miserable shealing,
the door of which lay open; but all was dark within. I struck a light
with my flint, and lighted a little taper. To my surprise, the hut
contained several articles of furniture; but I had not more than time to
notice them, when the dog, darting forward, placed his fore-paws upon a
low settle-bed, and gave a dismal howl. I turned and beheld the figure
of a very old man, his white beard hanging down to his chest, as he lay
in what seemed a heavy sleep. I touched him; he was cold. I placed my
hand on his heart; it was still. I tried to detect breathing; there was
none--he was quite dead!

The poor dog appeared to watch me with intense interest, as, one by one,
I tried these