lently, though I had
apparently received no injury. We mounted, crossed the little stream,
pushed through the trees, and began our journey over the plain beyond.
And now, as we rode slowly along, we looked anxiously on every hand
for traces of the Indians, not doubting that the village had passed
somewhere in that vicinity; but the scanty shriveled grass was not more
than three or four inches high, and the ground was of such unyielding
hardness that a host might have marched over it and left scarcely a
trace of its passage. Up hill and down hill, and clambering through
ravines, we continued our journey. As we were skirting the foot of a
hill I saw Raymond, who was some rods in advance, suddenly jerking the
reins of his mule. Sliding from his seat, and running in a crouching
posture up a hollow, he disappeared; and then in an instant I heard the
sharp quick crack of his rifle. A wounded antelope came running on three
legs over the hill. I lashed Pauline and made after him. My fleet little
mare soon brought me by his side, and after leaping and bounding for
a few moments in vain, he stood still, as if despairing of escape. His
glistening eyes turned up toward my face with so piteous a look that it
was with feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him through the
head with a pistol. Raymond skinned and cut him up, and we hung the
forequarters to our saddles, much rejoiced that our exhausted stock of
provisions was renewed in such good time.

Gaining the top of a hill, we could see along the cloudy verge of the
prairie before us lines of trees and shadowy groves that marked the
course of Laramie Creek. Some time before noon we reached its banks
and began anxiously to search them for footprints of the Indians. We
followed the stream for several miles, now on the shore and now wading
in the water, scrutinizing every sand-bar and every muddy bank. So
long was the search that we began to fear that we had left the trail
undiscovered behind us. At length I heard Raymond shouting, and saw him
jump from his mule to examine some object under the shelving bank. I
rode up to his side. It was the clear and palpable impression of an
Indian moccasin. Encouraged by this we continued our search, and at
last some appearances on a soft surface of earth not far from the shore
attracted my eye; and going to examine them I found half a dozen tracks,
some made by men and some by children. Just then Raymond observed across
the stream the mout