nment wagons, as Shaw and I were riding
along a narrow passage between the river bank and a rough hill that
passed close upon it, we heard Tete Rouge's voice behind us. "Hallo!" he
called out; "I say, stop the cart just for a minute, will you?"

"What's the matter, Tete?" asked Shaw, as he came riding up to us with a
grin of exultation. He had a bottle of molasses in one hand, and a large
bundle of hides on the saddle before him, containing, as he triumphantly
informed us, sugar, biscuits, coffee, and rice. These supplies he had
obtained by a stratagem on which he greatly plumed himself, and he was
extremely vexed and astonished that we did not fall in with his views of
the matter. He had told Coates, the master-wagoner, that the commissary
at the fort had given him an order for sick-rations, directed to the
master of any government train which he might meet upon the road. This
order he had unfortunately lost, but he hoped that the rations would not
be refused on that account, as he was suffering from coarse fare and
needed them very much. As soon as he came to camp that night Tete Rouge
repaired to the box at the back of the cart, where Delorier used to keep
his culinary apparatus, took possession of a saucepan, and after
building a little fire of his own, set to work preparing a meal out of
his ill-gotten booty. This done, he seized on a tin plate and spoon, and
sat down under the cart to regale himself. His preliminary repast did
not at all prejudice his subsequent exertions at supper; where, in spite
of his miniature dimensions, he made a better figure than any of us.
Indeed, about this time his appetite grew quite voracious. He began to
thrive wonderfully. His small body visibly expanded, and his cheeks,
which when we first took him were rather yellow and cadaverous, now
dilated in a wonderful manner, and became ruddy in proportion. Tete
Rouge, in short, began to appear like another man.

THE CHASE

The country before us was now thronged with buffalo, and a sketch of the
manner of hunting them will not be out of place. There are two methods
commonly practiced, "running" and "approaching." The chase on horseback,
which goes by the name of "running," is the more violent and dashing
mode of the two. Indeed, of all American wild sports, this is the
wildest. Once among the buffalo, the hunter, unless long use has made
him familiar with the situation, dashes forward in utter recklessness
and self-abandonment. He thin