“It will be just like Zigzag to take a notion to roll when he gets out there,” said Victor, as he drove the packhorse in ahead of him.
“If he does it will be the worst roll of his life,” replied George, who half feared the stubborn animal would try to do something of that nature. But, of course, Zigzag had too much sense to attempt anything of the kind. Indeed, he did his part so faithfully that he emerged from the river with his load as intact as at the beginning.
Matters were not pleasant that night. No food had been eaten since morning, for Deerfoot and Mul-tal-la had come to look upon the noonday halt as solely for the horses. It was a waste of time to hunt and prepare a dinner, and it had not been done since Deerfoot last joined the party. The expectation, however, was that of having an evening meal, which was welcome after the long day’s ride.
Although passing through a country abounding with game, our friends could not catch sight during the afternoon of elk, deer, bison or even a wild turkey. It was as if those creatures knew of the coming of the strangers and kept out of their way. It was not a good season to fish, though it was not so long since several meals had been made upon them. Still, more for the sake of the boys than himself and Mul-tal-la, the Shawanoe brought out the lines with a view to trying his luck in the Great Horn, but he was unable to find any bait. Both he and the Blackfoot searched until the growing darkness stopped them, without finding so much as an angleworm or any insect that could serve them to help woo the inhabitants of the river to shore. Still more, the ground was so rough, broken and overgrown that the horses were unable to do any better than their masters in the way of food.
And this was not the worst. They had been pestered by mosquitoes through the day, and at night the insects swarmed about the camp by the millions, tormenting animals as well as men. The poor beasts stamped the ground, switched their tails, bit and kicked, and at times were on the point of breaking off and dashing into the solitude. It was the turn of George Shelton to stand guard throughout the first portion of the night, and of Victor to act for the remainder of the hours of darkness. Deerfoot told them that inasmuch as none could sleep with comfort he would mount guard and divide the watch with Mul-tal-la. The boys did not suspect what was the truth—that the kind-hearted Shawanoe did this out of consideration for them.
Only partial relief was obtained by the recourse of travelers caught in such a trying situation. By enveloping themselves in the smoke of the fire until it was hard to breathe, they managed to fight off the pests for a part of the time. When the boys lay down each left only the point of his nose obtruding from the folds of the blanket. Even then that organ was punctured as by innumerable needle points, and most of the time was spent in slapping at the torturing insects.
There must have been a score of porcupines which busied themselves nosing about the camp in search of food. They were so familiar that in moving around one had to be careful to avoid stepping on the prickly things. They did not molest our friends, but their society was anything but agreeable. Victor expressed himself as envious of the protection nature had given these things against the mosquitoes.
Amid these trials Deerfoot and George Shelton felt grateful over a fact that had become apparent long before. It has been shown that from the very hour when it was agreed that Victor should form one of the little party to cross the continent, he began rallying from the decline into which he was rapidly settling, and which threatened his life. Except for some such radical change he must have been crushed by the incubus that was bearing him to earth. But the rough out-door days and nights had wrought their beneficent work. He had regained his former vigor and rugged health, and even before they crossed the Mississippi was his old self again. True, moments of sad depression came to him during the lonely watches, when his grief over the loss of his parent brought tears to his eyes and made him sigh for the sweet companionship that could never again be his in this world.
It is a blessed provision that, if time cannot fully heal all wounds, it can soften the pangs that otherwise would make existence one long misery and sorrow.