270 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 
creak and groan, gasped from the older, asthma- 
tical, short-winded mules. If we have no canoe, 
the bell-horse is ridden into the water ; when the 
rider feels the horse begins to swim, he grasps the 
mane with his left hand, floats from off the horse’s 
back, swims with his legs as in ordinaryswimming, 
whilst with the right he splashes the water against 
the horse's face, thus keeping the animal’s head 
always up-stream. On reaching the opposite 
side, when the horse’s feet touch the ground, the 
man again drops astride, and rides it out, ring- 
ing the all-potent bell with all his might. 
I learn from my guide that a settler ‘squatted’ 
where we cross about a year before, built the 
shanty, made the footbridge, and put in some 
grain-crops; but the Indians discovered, killed, 
and scalped him, burnt his shanty, and carried 
his wife away prisoner—not a cheering story, 
considering I am going through their very 
strongholds. 
May 18th.—A sharp frosty morning; very cold, 
sleeping in the open air. Get away soon after 
sun-up. Leave the flat grassy valley, and ascend 
the timbered slopes of the Sis-ky-oue mountains. 
Follow a bad Indian trail, through barren gorges, 
and along rocky ledges, for twenty miles; observe 
lots of deer-tracks, but no deer. Descend the 
