ore a feeling of gratitude than of love. It
was far different from the sentiment held towards Marengo.

With these considerations passing through the minds of our hungry
hunters, it is easy to guess the result of their deliberations. The
sentence was at length pronounced--a unanimous one--_Jeanette must die_!

Poor old Jeanette! She little knew what they were talking about. She
little thought that her days were about being numbered--that the time
was nigh when she should carry a pack no more. She little expected that
she was about to kick up her heels upon the prairie for the last time--
that in a few hours her life-blood would be let forth--and her old ribs
be roasting and sputtering over a camp-fire!

Yes, it was decreed that Jeanette should die! but when and where this
terrible tragedy was to take place, was not yet determined upon. At
their first halting-place, of course; but where was that to be? for,
after having resolved upon the death of Jeanette, they travelled on for
miles without arriving at any place where it would be possible to halt
for the night! No water appeared, and without water they could not with
safety encamp. Early in the afternoon they had entered upon a strange
tract, over which the road of the buffaloes led them. It was a part of
the prairie--a series of low hills composed of pure gypsum. These
extended around them, as far as our travellers could see, presenting on
all sides a picture of alabaster whiteness. Neither plant, nor tree,
nor any sign of vegetable life relieved the monotonous uniformity of the
landscape. Turn to what side they might, their eyes were met by the
lime-like surface of hill and dale, dazzling the sight with its milky
whiteness. The sun, reflected upward, pierced their bodies, and parched
them with thirst. They breathed a hot atmosphere filled with gypsum
dust, that by the trampling of the buffalo herd had been reduced to an
impalpable powder, and floated about suspended in the air. This added
to the agony of their thirst; and it was difficult for them to tell
whether they suffered most from the want of food, or the want of water!

How far might this singular tract extend? They could form no conjecture
as to the distance. Lucien had heard that such formations sometimes
stretched for many miles. If so, they might never be able to cross it--
thirsty and exhausted as both they and the animals were--for, eager to
come up with the buffalo, they had rested bu