About midnight I began to get sleepy, so, pulling the bridle off my pony so she could graze, I spread the buffalo hide down, hair up, and after wrapping the end of the rope, that my pony was fastened to around my body once or twice so she couldn't get loose without me knowing it, fell asleep.
I hadn't slept long when I awoke, covered from head to foot with ants. The fresh hide had attracted them.
After freeing myself of most of the little pests I continued my journey in search of water.
About three o'clock in the morning I lay down again, but this time left the hide on my saddle.
I think I must have been asleep about an hour when all at once my pony gave a tremendous snort and struck out at full speed, dragging me after her.
You see I had wrapped the rope around my body as before and it held me fast some way or another; I suppose by getting tangled. Luckily for me though it came loose after dragging me about a hundred yards.
You can imagine my feelings on gaining my feet, and finding myself standing on the broad prairie afoot. I felt just like a little boy does when he lets a bird slip out of his hand accidently—that is—exceedingly foolish.
The earth was still shaking and I could hear a roaring noise like that of distant thunder. A large herd of buffaloes had just passed.
While standing scratching my head a faint noise greeted my ear; it was my pony snorting. A tramp of about three hundred yards brought me to her. She was shaking as though she had a chill. I mounted and continued my journey south, determined on not stopping any more that night.
About ten o'clock next morning I struck water on the head of Sharp's creek, a tributary to "Beaver" or head of North Canadian.