We stopped a moment when passing to take a look at the village. Silence prevailed. Not a living thing was astir. Three whirlwinds chased each other along the winding paths between the houses, making funnel-shaped dust clouds as they sped on.
"The ghosts have entered the village," said Lester, in our own language, and in a melancholy tone; "they always do that as soon as the living leave their houses!"
Entering the ravine for which we were making, we continued our journey. The nettle weeds caused us much suffering, for we were barefooted, and wore short trousers. We came to an opening; before us lay the road to the Agency; we looked cautiously around, then started to cross it to go into another ravine that headed toward the big village, when the snorting of a horse was heard with startling distinctness.
"Quick! quick! get down!" exclaimed Lester in a loud whisper, as he dropped into the gully of the old abandoned wagon-road.
Warren and I followed hastily, pulling the tall grass over us. We heard the footsteps of the horse come nearer and nearer to our hiding place. It stopped and reached its head down, and began to nibble the grass under which I lay concealed. I looked up through a slight opening, and, behold! there on the horse sat Brush with one leg thrown over the pommel of the saddle, busily reading a book. I could see the boy's eyes and his lips moving as he read, and at times it seemed as though his eyes were looking right into mine. I was in great suspense while the horse stood there, but at length Brush picked up the rains and urged Dolly on. As soon as he disappeared at the bend of the road, we rose and darted across and ran down to the ravine.
We entered the big village of sod houses through which we had to pass. Here, too, we felt the sense of desolation that pervaded even the hills around. Somewhere from the midst of these peculiar dwellings came the doleful howl of a stray dog, the only sound that broke the stillness of the place. What sensations my companions experienced upon hearing the melancholy wail of that deserted beast I do not know; but, like the rapid advance of a fire over the prairie, a thrill that made the very roots of my hair creep vibrated through my body. Involuntarily we paused to listen; the long-drawn moan came to a close, and the ghostly echoes carried on the sound as though to mock the lost creature.
"Let's run!" exclaimed Lester, in a frightened tone; "let's get away from here!"
And so we sped on until, all out of breath, we were far beyond the limits of the village.
The shadows of the hills and the trees were beginning to grow long as we reached the foot of the bluffs where lay the village of the Wood-eaters. We followed a narrow but well-beaten path, wending our way among the tall trees. Suddenly a dog, with tail rigid and erect, and hair bristling, came barking at us with savage fury.
"'Shta-du-ba! 'Shta-du-ba!" called Lester, as he came near. "It is I, don't you know me?"