Some of the Pawnees, and Otoes, were scattered through the grove in search of fuel. Some breaking dead limbs from off the trees, and others collecting what was already strewed upon the ground. Two or three were erecting shantees to keep off the dews of the night. And several young Otoes were employed in weaving a shed of boughs, to shelter the wife of the Iotan, who had been unwell for several days past; and whose disease always grew worse towards evening, when she would have been obliged to assist in the labour, if she had been in good health.

In the course of an hour, the Indians completed their arrangements, and kindled a string of fires along the dry bed of a stream. As I had never seen them when encamped, except upon the Platte, where all vivacity had been soaked out of them. I strolled among the different groups. They were all in high glee. I came to the fire, occupied by the Wild Horse’s family and a few of his dependants. The old warrior was in the keen enjoyment of some witticism just uttered by a little shrivelled fellow, a hanger on, who was evidently trying to make himself agreeable; that he might be invited to partake of a racoon that was cooking over the fire, under the superintendence of the squaw of his host. The Wild Horse made room for me by his side, so I seated myself, nor was I permitted to leave until I had partaken of his viands. From his fire I went to that of the Long Hair, who was huddled up, with his whole soul apparently engaged, in roasting a small piece of venison, upon the point of a green stick. He looked up for a moment, and then turned his attention to the roasting meat. I soon left him and strolled off to the fire of the Otoes. Here I found the Doctor very cosily seated between the Iotan, and his wife, prescribing for her, and taking care of himself, by occasionally cutting a rib from a large piece of venison standing in front of the fire, impaled upon a stake of green wood.

Early the next morning the tents were struck, when Mordecai made his appearance with a very lugubrious face, informing us that two horses had disappeared, and that the mule belonging to the Doctor was also missing. The Doctor was in a fever. He ran down to the place where the animals pastured; he examined the bushes, and beat through all the long grass; but his mule, Kitty Keero, was not to be found. He then seated himself upon the stump of a tree, and thrusting his hands in his breeches-pockets, shouted the name of his mule at the top of his lungs; but no Kitty Keero answered him. At last the Interpreter pointed to a savage-looking Pawnee, leaning against a tree, with his hair matted and twisted in every direction, and a few long elf locks reaching down to his naked waist. He advised the Commissioner to send him in search of the horses; as he was a first rate fellow to track a hoof. A blanket was accordingly promised the Indian in case of success, and after hovering around the grove for a short time, in search of the hoof mark, he hit upon it, and started off like a hound.

In an hour he returned, bringing with him the vagrant animals. Kitty Keero gave utterance to a long apologetic bray, as she entered the grove. This was well received by her master, who was so much overjoyed at once more seeing her, that two or three reproachful repetitions of her name, were all the chidings she received.

The wagons then drove out of the grove, followed by the Indians; the rear being brought up by the horsemen. In front of them rode the Doctor mounted upon Kitty; and as they jogged slowly along, I could not help thinking, that they would have formed no inapt illustration of Sancho Panza and his beloved Dapple.

CHAPTER XVI.

Elk Chase.—Wandering from Party.—Herd of Elk.—Night Camp.—Hill of Bones.—Racoon.—Indian.—Return to Party.—Wild Horse.

On the morning of the fifth day of our journey, an Otoe Indian, who was on the look-out, came running to us with the intelligence of a large gang of elk. All was excitement. The soldiers snatched their yagers; the Otoes their rifles; the Pawnees strung their bows, drew their arrows from their quivers, and all hurried after the Indian guide, over the prairie which had been burnt before us. In ten minutes they reached the top of a hill, looking down into a deep ravine, about three hundred yards distant. It was thronged with elk. Some were gamboling about; some resting amid the high luxuriant grass, which here had escaped the fire. Others browzing upon the foliage of the vines, which hung in long and graceful festoons from the dwarf bushes; and some were slaking their thirst at a limpid brook. But even in these, their moments of greatest security, their instinctive vigilance was not at rest. For while most of the herd were frolicking, several, who from their enormous size, and the unwieldly length of their antlers, appeared to be the oldest in the gang, had stationed themselves as sentinels, on jutting rocks in the elevated banks, which commanded an extensive view. There they stood on the look-out, their heads high in the air, their nostrils expanded to catch the tainted breeze.

Scarcely had our band paused on the top of the hill, before the eyes of the watchful sentinels were turned upon them, and a loud snort gave the signal for a general flight. The bushes and shrubs, snapped and crashed beneath their rush, as they rolled together in a heavy mass. Their branching antlers tore through the wild vines; and the whole herd dashed across the ravine and thundered up the opposite steep. Large stones and fragments of rock, gave way beneath the tread of the leaders, and fell bounding among the hindmost. Those in front broke off large masses of sandy soil from the edge of the banks, and losing their footing, were whirled back among their companions. Notwithstanding the confusion, however, half a minute had not elapsed, before the whole herd had surmounted the steep, and were flying over the prairie, with the swiftness of a whirlwind.