our men are missing; R., Sorel and two emigrants.
They set out this morning after buffalo, and have not yet made their
appearance; whether killed or lost, we cannot tell.

I find the above in my notebook, and well remember the council held on
the occasion. Our fire was the scene of it; or the palpable superiority
of Henry Chatillon's experience and skill made him the resort of the
whole camp upon every question of difficulty. He was molding bullets
at the fire, when the captain drew near, with a perturbed and care-worn
expression of countenance, faithfully reflected on the heavy features
of Jack, who followed close behind. Then emigrants came straggling from
their wagons toward the common center; various suggestions were made to
account for the absence of the four men, and one or two of the emigrants
declared that when out after the cattle they had seen Indians dogging
them, and crawling like wolves along the ridges of the hills. At this
time the captain slowly shook his head with double gravity, and solemnly
remarked:

"It's a serious thing to be traveling through this cursed wilderness";
an opinion in which Jack immediately expressed a thorough coincidence.
Henry would not commit himself by declaring any positive opinion.

"Maybe he only follow the buffalo too far; maybe Indian kill him; maybe
he got lost; I cannot tell!"

With this the auditors were obliged to rest content; the emigrants, not
in the least alarmed, though curious to know what had become of their
comrades, walked back to their wagons and the captain betook himself
pensively to his tent. Shaw and I followed his example.

"It will be a bad thing for our plans," said he as we entered, "if these
fellows don't get back safe. The captain is as helpless on the prairie
as a child. We shall have to take him and his brother in tow; they will
hang on us like lead."

"The prairie is a strange place," said I. "A month ago I should have
thought it rather a startling affair to have an acquaintance ride out in
the morning and lose his scalp before night, but here it seems the most
natural thing in the world; not that I believe that R. has lost his
yet."

If a man is constitutionally liable to nervous apprehensions, a tour on
the distant prairies would prove the best prescription; for though when
in the neighborhood of the Rocky Mountains he may at times find himself
placed in circumstances of some danger, I believe that few ever breathe
that reckless atmosph