the crossing of the Santa Fe Trail over Pawnee Fork
without special adventure, but there they had the usual tussle with
the savages, and Hobbs killed his first Indian. Two of the traders were
pierced with arrows, but not seriously hurt, and the Pawnees--the tribe
which had attacked the outfit--were driven away discomfited, not having
been successful in stampeding a single animal.

When the party reached the Caches, on the Upper Arkansas, a smoke rising
on the distant horizon, beyond the sand hills south of the river, made
them proceed cautiously; for to the old plainsmen, that far-off wreath
indicated either the presence of the savages, or a signal to others at a
greater distance of the approach of the trappers.

The next morning, nothing having occurred to delay the march, buffalo
began to appear, and Hobbs killed three of them. A cow, which he had
wounded, ran across the Trail in front of the train, and Hobbs dashed
after her, wounding her with his pistol, and then she started to swim
the river. Hobbs, mad at the jeers which greeted him from the men at his
missing the animal, started for the last wagon, in which was his rifle,
determined to kill the brute that had enraged him. As he was riding
along rapidly, Bent cried out to him,--

"Don't try to follow that cow; she is going straight for that smoke, and
it means Injuns, and no good in 'em either."

"But I'll get her," answered Hobbs, and he called to his closest
comrade, John Baptiste, a boy of about his own age, to go and get his
pack-mule and come along. "All right," responded John; and together the
two inexperienced youngsters crossed the river against the protests of
the veteran leader of the party.

After a chase of about three miles, the boys came up with the cow, but
she turned and showed fight. Finally Hobbs, by riding around her, got
in a good shot, which killed her. Jumping off their animals, both boys
busied themselves in cutting out the choice pieces for their supper,
packed them on the mule, and started back for the train. But it had
suddenly become very dark, and they were in doubt as to the direction of
the Trail.

Soon night came on so rapidly that neither could they see their own
tracks by which they had come, nor the thin fringe of cottonwoods that
lined the bank of the stream. Then they disagreed as to which was the
right way. John succeeded in persuading Hobbs that he was correct, and
the latter gave in, very much against his own belief on