n we found another plain. All around it stood a
circle of lofty precipices, that seemed the impersonation of silence and
solitude. Here again the Indians had encamped, as well they might, after
passing with their women, children and horses through the gulf behind
us. In one day we had made a journey which had cost them three to
accomplish.

The only outlet to this amphitheater lay over a hill some two hundred
feet high, up which we moved with difficulty. Looking from the top,
we saw that at last we were free of the mountains. The prairie
spread before us, but so wild and broken that the view was everywhere
obstructed. Far on our left one tall hill swelled up against the sky, on
the smooth, pale green surface of which four slowly moving black specks
were discernible. They were evidently buffalo, and we hailed the sight
as a good augury; for where the buffalo were, there too the Indians
would probably be found. We hoped on that very night to reach the
village. We were anxious to do so for a double reason, wishing to bring
our wearisome journey to an end, and knowing, moreover, that though
to enter the village in broad daylight would be a perfectly safe
experiment, yet to encamp in its vicinity would be dangerous. But as we
rode on, the sun was sinking, and soon was within half an hour of the
horizon. We ascended a hill and looked round us for a spot for our
encampment. The prairie was like a turbulent ocean, suddenly congealed
when its waves were at the highest, and it lay half in light and half in
shadow, as the rich sunshine, yellow as gold, was pouring over it. The
rough bushes of the wild sage were growing everywhere, its dull pale
green overspreading hill and hollow. Yet a little way before us, a
bright verdant line of grass was winding along the plain, and here and
there throughout its course water was glistening darkly. We went down to
it, kindled a fire, and turned our horses loose to feed. It was a little
trickling brook, that for some yards on either bank turned the barren
prairie into fertility, and here and there it spread into deep pools,
where the beaver had dammed it up.

We placed our last remaining piece of the antelope before a scanty fire,
mournfully reflecting on our exhausted stock of provisions. Just then an
enormous gray hare, peculiar to these prairies, came jumping along, and
seated himself within fifty yards to look at us. I thoughtlessly raised
my rifle to shoot him, but Raymond called out to m