When, in famishing despair I closed my eyes, a cup of cool, delicious drink would seem to be presented to my lips, only to be cruelly withdrawn; and this torture seemed to me like the agony of the rich man, who besought Lazarus for one drop of water to cool his parched tongue.
I thought of all I had been separated from, as it seemed to me, forever, and the torment of the hour reduced me to despair. I wished to die, feeling that the pangs of dissolution could not surpass the anguish of my living death. My voice was almost gone, and with difficulty I maintained my seat in the saddle.
Turning my eyes despairingly to my captors, I uttered the word “Minne,” signifying water in their language, and kept repeating it imploringly at intervals. They seemed to hurry forward, and, just at sunset, came in sight of a grassy valley through which flowed a river, and the sight of it came like hope to my almost dying eyes.
A little brook from the hills above found its way into the waters of this greater stream, and here they dismounted, and, lifting me from my horse, laid me in its shallow bed. I had become almost unconscious, and the cool, delightful element revived me. At first I was not able to drink, but gradually my strength renewed itself, and I found relief from the indescribable pangs of thirst.
The stream by which the Indians camped that night was Powder River; and here, in 1866, Fort Conner was built, which in the following year was named Fort Reno.
CHAPTER VII.
POWDER RIVER—ANOTHER ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE—DETECTION AND DESPAIR—A QUARREL—MY LIFE SAVED BY “JUMPING BEAR.”
The name given to Powder River by the Indians, is “Chahalee Wacapolah.” It crosses the country east of the Big Horn Mountains, and from its banks can be seen the snow-capped Cloud Peak rising grandly from its surrounding hills. Between these ranges, that culminate in the queenly, shining crowned height that takes its name from the clouds it seems to pierce, are fertile valleys, in which game abounds, and delicious wild fruits in great variety, some of which can not be surpassed by cultivated orchard products in the richness and flavor they possess, although they ripen in the neighborhood of everlasting snow.
In these valleys the country seems to roll in gentle slopes, presenting to the eye many elements of loveliness and future value.