uman foes. On hearing
the shots, the whole herd took to flight.

"Well done!" cried my father. "I should like to have another, though;"
and hurrying down the hill, he mounted his horse and galloped off in
chase of the retreating herd.

Heavy and clumsy as the animals looked, so rapidly did they rush over
the ground that he could only get within range of two or three of the
rearmost. Pulling up, he fired; but the buffalo dashed on; and,
unwilling to fatigue his horse, my father came back, somewhat annoyed at
his failure.

[Illustration: INDIAN MODE OF ATTACKING BUFFALO.]

The three animals which had been killed were quickly cut up, and we
loaded our cart with the meat; after which the Indians accompanied us
back to the camp to receive the reward we had promised. The supply of
fresh meat was very welcome, and helped to keep sickness at a distance
for some time longer.

After this we made several days' journey, the supply of fresh provisions
putting all hands into better spirits than they had shown for some time.
There was but little chance, however, of our replenishing our stock when
that was exhausted, for we saw Indians frequently hovering round our
camp who were not likely to prove as friendly as those we had before met
with, and it would be dangerous to go to any distance in search of game,
as there was a probability of our being cut off by them.

We had soon another enemy to contend with, more subtile than even the
Redskins. Cholera broke out among the emigrants, and one after another
succumbed. This determined those who had before talked of going back to
carry out their intentions; and notwithstanding the expostulations of my
father and others, they turned round the heads of their cattle, and back
they went over the road we had come.

I had by this time observed that my mother was not looking so well as
usual. One night she became very ill, and in spite of all my father and
two kind women of our party could do for her, before morning she was
dead. My father appeared inconsolable; and, naturally, Clarice and I
were very unhappy. We would willingly have died with her.

"But we must not complain at what God ordains," said Clarice; "we must
wish to live, to be of use to poor papa. She is happy, we know; she
trusted in Christ, and has gone to dwell with him."

Clarice succeeded better than I did in soothing our poor father's grief.
I thought that he himself would now wish to go back, but he was too
proud to th