the horsemen came galloping up; it was Saint Vrain.

"Why, bless me, Haller!" cried he, reining up, and bending from his
saddle to get a better view of me, "is it you or your ghost? As I sit
here, it's the man himself, and alive!"

"Never in better condition," I replied.

"But where did you come from? the clouds? the sky? where?" And his
questions were echoed by the others, who at this moment were shaking me
by the hand, as if they had not seen me for a twelvemonth.

Gode seemed to be the most perplexed man of the party.

"Mon Dieu! run over; tramp by von million buffles, et ne pas mort!
'Cr-r-re matin!"

"We were hunting for your body, or rather, the fragments of it," said
Saint Vrain. "We had searched every foot of the prairie for a mile
round, and had almost come to the conclusion that the fierce brutes had
eaten you up."

"Eat monsieur up! No! tre million buffles no him eat. Mon Dieu! Ha,
Sleep-head!"

This exclamation of the Canadian was addressed to Hibbets, who had
failed to warn my comrades of where I lay, and thus placed me in such a
dangerous predicament.

"We saw you tossed in the air," continued Saint Vrain, "and fall right
into the thick of them. Then, of course, we gave you up. But how, in
Heaven's name, have you got clear?"

I related my adventure to my wondering comrades.

"Par Dieu!" cried Gode, "un garcon tres bizarre: une aventure tres
merveilleuse!"

From that hour I was looked upon as a "captain" on the prairies.

My comrades had made good work of it, as a dozen dark objects that lay
upon the plain testified. They had found my rifle and blankets, the
latter trodden into the earth.

Saint Vrain had still a few drops in his flask; and after swallowing
these, and again placing the guard, we returned to our prairie couches
and slept out the night.

CHAPTER FIVE.

IN A BAD FIX.

A few days afterwards, another adventure befell me; and I began to think
that I was destined to become a hero among the "mountain men." A small
party of the traders, myself among the number, had pushed forward ahead
of the caravan. Our object was to arrive at Santa Fe a day or two
before the waggons, in order to have everything arranged with the
Governor for their entrance into that capital. We took the route by the
Cimmaron.

Our road, for a hundred miles or so, lay through a barren desert,
without game, and almost without water. The buffalo had already
disappeared, and deer were equall