Among the High Hills. 105 



I walked back to camp in the gloaming, taking care 

 to reach it before it grew really dark ; for in the Bad 

 Lands it is entirely impossible to travel, or to find any 

 given locality, after nightfall. Old Manitou had eaten 

 his fill, and looked up at me with pricked ears, and wise, 

 friendly face as I climbed down the side of the cedar 

 canyon ; then he came slowly towards me to see if I had 

 not something for him. I rubbed his soft nose and gave 

 him a cracker ; then I picketed him to a solitary cedar, 

 where the feed was good. Afterwards I kindled a small 

 fire, roasted both prairie fowl, ate one, and put the other 

 by for breakfast ; and soon rolled myself in my blanket, 

 with the saddle for a pillow, and the oilskin beneath. 

 Manitou was munching the grass nearby. I lay just out- 

 side the line of stiff black cedars ; the night air was soft 

 in my face ; I gazed at the shining and brilliant multitude 

 of stars until my eyelids closed. 



The chill breath which comes before dawn awakened 

 me. It was still and dark. Through the gloom I could 

 indistinctly make out the loom of the old horse, lying 

 down. I was speedily ready, and groped and stumbled 

 slowly up the hill, and then along its crest to a peak. 

 Here I sat down and waited a quarter of an hour or so, 

 until gray appeared in the east, and the dim light-streaks 

 enabled me to walk farther. Before sunrise I was two 

 miles from camp ; then I crawled cautiously to a high 

 ridge and crouching behind it scanned all the landscape 

 eagerly. In a few minutes a movement about a third of 

 a mile to the right, midway down a hill, caught my eye. 

 Another glance showed me three white specks moving 



