well-armed upon
the prairie, or bathed with Shaw in the stream, or waged a petty warfare
with the inhabitants of a neighborhood prairie-dog village. Around our
fire at night we employed ourselves in inveighing against the fickleness
and inconstancy of Indians, and execrating The Whirlwind and all his
village. At last the thing grew insufferable.

"To-morrow morning," said I, "I will start for the fort, and see if I
can hear any news there." Late that evening, when the fire had sunk
low, and all the camp were asleep, a loud cry sounded from the darkness.
Henry started up, recognized the voice, replied to it, and our dandy
friend, The Horse, rode in among us, just returned from his mission to
the village. He coolly picketed his mare, without saying a word, sat
down by the fire and began to eat, but his imperturbable philosophy
was too much for our patience. Where was the village? about fifty miles
south of us; it was moving slowly and would not arrive in less than
a week; and where was Henry's squaw? coming as fast as she could with
Mahto-Tatonka, and the rest of her brothers, but she would never reach
us, for she was dying, and asking every moment for Henry. Henry's manly
face became clouded and downcast; he said that if we were willing he
would go in the morning to find her, at which Shaw offered to accompany
him.

We saddled our horses at sunrise. Reynal protested vehemently against
being left alone, with nobody but the two Canadians and the young
Indians, when enemies were in the neighborhood. Disregarding his
complaints, we left him, and coming to the mouth of Chugwater,
separated, Shaw and Henry turning to the right, up the bank of the
stream, while I made for the fort.

Taking leave for a while of my friend and the unfortunate squaw, I will
relate by way of episode what I saw and did at Fort Laramie. It was not
more than eighteen miles distant, and I reached it in three hours; a
shriveled little figure, wrapped from head to foot in a dingy white
Canadian capote, stood in the gateway, holding by a cord of bull's hide
a shaggy wild horse, which he had lately caught. His sharp prominent
features, and his little keen snakelike eyes, looked out from beneath
the shadowy hood of the capote, which was drawn over his head exactly
like the cowl of a Capuchin friar. His face was extremely thin and like
an old piece of leather, and his mouth spread from ear to ear. Extending
his long wiry hand, he welcomed me with somethin