s lost their character, and all seemed to be
an indistinct haze. The buffalo had by this time carried me some
distance from the main body, and was beginning to show signs of fatigue.
If I was going to leave him, this was my opportunity; and quietly
loosening my hold, I slipped off his rump on to the ground, and betook
myself in an opposite direction as fast as I could go, and it was with
feelings of relief and thankfulness that I had escaped so luckily from
my first and only buffalo ride.

CHAPTER IV.

AGAIN A PRISONER.

Footsore and weary I wandered over the prairie, straining my eyes in
every direction in the vain hope of beholding the white-topped wagons of
the train. My late involuntary journey had borne me far to the
southward; and, although my rapid progress had given me but little
opportunity for observation, still I was convinced that the direction in
which I had traveled was likely to bring me in the track of the prairie
caravans. I was not without apprehension of again falling in with my
late captors, and hardly knew whether I dreaded or desired it; fully
realizing that I had nothing to look forward to in that event but
torture and death. Still I felt that to see once again the sweet face of
my beloved I would risk every peril, even though I was helpless to aid
her, and to witness her sufferings would only add to the poignant
anguish that tortured me. Racked by these thoughts, and with a
despairing heart, I walked steadily on. The day was now far spent, and I
was beginning to experience the pangs of hunger, for I had eaten nothing
since early morning; but I suffered far more from thirst, and for hours
searched eagerly for water; scanning the horizon in every direction for
a sight of the fringe-like foliage, of the cottonwood trees. Stiff and
sore from my confinement of the night previous, and suffering intensely
from the wound on my head, which had been entirely neglected, my
progress grew slower, and when night settled over the prairie my search
was still unsuccessful; and without food, water, or shelter, I sank
exhausted to the earth. After a time sleep gave me a welcome oblivion;
but my rest was disturbed by troubled dreams, and the dawn found me but
little refreshed.

It was barely daylight when I again started. I felt weak and dizzy; and
the conviction, forced itself upon me that I must find food and water
before many hours, or perish--my life depended on my finding water--and
notwithstanding