er how I lay upon a log by the margin of the water, and watched
the restless motions of the little fish in a deep still nook below.
Strange to say, I seemed to have gained strength since the morning, and
almost felt a sense of returning health.

We built our fire. Night came, and the wolves began to howl. One deep
voice commenced, and it was answered in awful responses from the hills,
the plains, and the woods along the stream above and below us. Such
sounds need not and do not disturb one's sleep upon the prairie. We
picketed the mare and the mule close at our feet, and did not wake until
daylight. Then we turned them loose, still hobbled, to feed for an hour
before starting. We were getting ready our morning's meal, when Raymond
saw an antelope at half a mile's distance, and said he would go and
shoot it.

"Your business," said. I, "is to look after the animals. I am too weak
to do much, if anything happens to them, and you must keep within sight
of the camp."

Raymond promised, and set out with his rifle in his hand. The animals
had passed across the stream, and were feeding among the long grass
on the other side, much tormented by the attacks of the numerous large
green-headed flies. As I watched them, I saw them go down into a hollow,
and as several minutes elapsed without their reappearing, I waded
through the stream to look after them. To my vexation and alarm I
discovered them at a great distance, galloping away at full speed,
Pauline in advance, with her hobbles broken, and the mule, still
fettered, following with awkward leaps. I fired my rifle and shouted to
recall Raymond. In a moment he came running through the stream, with a
red handkerchief bound round his head. I pointed to the fugitives, and
ordered him to pursue them. Muttering a "Sacre!" between his teeth, he
set out at full speed, still swinging his rifle in his hand. I walked
up to the top of a hill, and looking away over the prairie, could just
distinguish the runaways, still at full gallop. Returning to the fire,
I sat down at the foot of a tree. Wearily and anxiously hour after
hour passed away. The old loose bark dangling from the trunk behind
me flapped to and fro in the wind, and the mosquitoes kept up their
incessant drowsy humming; but other than this, there was no sight nor
sound of life throughout the burning landscape. The sun rose higher and
higher, until the shadows fell almost perpendicularly, and I knew that
it must be noon. It see