nd half devoured by wolves. The details
of this midnight tragedy were never known. Saddened by this calamity,
yet striving to maintain cheerful spirits, the party pressed on their
way. After many days' march they came to another large river, which
proved to be that which is now known as the Colorado, which empties
into Matagorda Bay, more than four hundred miles west of the mouths of
the Mississippi.

As they were journeying along, one of the men, with blistered feet,
stopped to adjust his shoes. When he resumed his march, he found that
the party was out of sight, and he could not overtake them. The grass
of the prairie was higher than the men's heads, and there were many
tracks through it which were called buffalo streets. It was impossible
for him to tell which path the men had taken. He was hopelessly lost.
To follow either one of them might lead him farther and farther from
his companions, where he would perish miserably.

Night came. He fired his gun several times, but could get no response.
He threw himself upon the grass. In the intensity of his anxiety, he
could not sleep. All the next day and the next night, he remained upon
the spot, hoping that his companions might come back in search for him.
They did not return. He had been reprimanded the preceding day for some
misconduct, and it was supposed that he had deserted.

Almost in despair he retraced his steps, travelling mostly by night,
through fear that he might encounter the savages. After a month of toil
and suffering, ragged and emaciate he at midnight reached the
settlement. Many weeks passed away, and no tidings whatever were heard
of the exploring party. One morning early in March, M. Joutel chanced
to be upon the roof of a hut, when he saw far away on the prairie,
eight men approaching. He immediately took a well-armed party and
advanced to meet them. They proved to be a portion of the exploring
band. They said that others were returning by another route. They were
all in a deplorable condition. Their clothes were in tatters. Most of
them were without hats. Their shirts were entirely worn out.

All were rejoiced to see La Salle again. But he had no tidings to give
of the long-sought-for river. The situation in which the colonists,
with their greatly diminished numbers, now found themselves was
appalling. They were utterly lost in the boundless wilderness of this
new world. All communication with their friends in France was cut off.
There was no hop