I took the saddle from Pontiac and put it upon Hendrick; the former was harnessed to the cart in an instant."Avance donc!" cried Delorier.Pontiac strode up the hill, twitching the little cart after him as if it were a feather's weight; and though, as we gained the top, we saw the wagons of our deserted comrades just getting into motion, we had little fear that they could overtake us.Leaving the trail, we struck directly across the country, and took the shortest cut to reach the main stream of the Platte.A deep ravine suddenly intercepted us.We skirted its sides until we found them less abrupt, and then plunged through the best way we could.Passing behind the sandy ravines called "Ash Hollow," we stopped for a short nooning at the side of a pool of rain-water; but soon resumed our journey, and some hours before sunset were descending the ravines and gorges opening downward upon the Platte to the west of Ash Hollow.
Our horses waded to the fetlock in sand; the sun scorched like fire, and the air swarmed with sand-flies and mosquitoes.
At last we gained the Platte.Following it for about five miles, we saw, just as the sun was sinking, a great meadow, dotted with hundreds of cattle, and beyond them an emigrant encampment.A party of about a dozen came out to meet us, looking upon us at first with cold and suspicious faces.Seeing four men, different in appearance and equipment from themselves, emerging from the hills, they had taken us for the van of the much-dreaded Mormons, whom they were very apprehensive of encountering.We made known our true character, and then they greeted us cordially.They expressed much surprise that so small a party should venture to traverse that region, though in fact such attempts are not unfrequently made by trappers and Indian traders.We rode with them to their camp.The wagons, some fifty in number, with here and there a tent intervening, were arranged as usual in a circle; in the area within the best horses were picketed, and the whole circumference was glowing with the dusky light of the fires, displaying the forms of the women and children who were crowded around them.This patriarchal scene was curious and striking enough; but we made our escape from the place with all possible dispatch, being tormented by the intrusive curiosity of the men who crowded around us.Yankee curiosity was nothing to theirs.They demanded our names, where we came from, where we were going, and what was our business.The last query was particularly embarrassing;since traveling in that country, or indeed anywhere, from any other motive than gain, was an idea of which they took no cognizance.Yet they were fine-looking fellows, with an air of frankness, generosity, and even courtesy, having come from one of the least barbarous of the frontier counties.
We passed about a mile beyond them, and encamped.Being too few in number to stand guard without excessive fatigue, we extinguished our fire, lest it should attract the notice of wandering Indians; and picketing our horses close around us, slept undisturbed till morning.
For three days we traveled without interruption, and on the evening of the third encamped by the well-known spring on Scott's Bluff.
Henry Chatillon and I rode out in the morning, and descending the western side of the Bluff, were crossing the plain beyond.Something that seemed to me a file of buffalo came into view, descending the hills several miles before us.But Henry reined in his horse, and keenly peering across the prairie with a better and more practiced eye, soon discovered its real nature."Indians!" he said."Old Smoke's lodges, I b'lieve.Come! let us go! Wah! get up, now, Five Hundred Dollar!" And laying on the lash with good will, he galloped forward, and I rode by his side.Not long after, a black speck became visible on the prairie, full two miles off.It grew larger and larger; it assumed the form of a man and horse; and soon we could discern a naked Indian, careering at full gallop toward us.When within a furlong he wheeled his horse in a wide circle, and made him describe various mystic figures upon the prairie; and Henry immediately compelled Five Hundred Dollar to execute similar evolutions."It IS Old Smoke's village," said he, interpreting these signals; "didn't I say so?"As the Indian approached we stopped to wait for him, when suddenly he vanished, sinking, as it were, into the earth.He had come upon one of the deep ravines that everywhere intersect these prairies.In an instant the rough head of his horse stretched upward from the edge and the rider and steed came scrambling out, and hounded up to us; a sudden jerk of the rein brought the wild panting horse to a full stop.Then followed the needful formality of shaking hands.Iforget our visitor's name.He was a young fellow, of no note in his nation; yet in his person and equipments he was a good specimen of a Dakota warrior in his ordinary traveling dress.Like most of his people, he was nearly six feet high; lithely and gracefully, yet strongly proportioned; and with a skin singularly clear and delicate.
