io8 The Wilderness Hunter 



across the river. It was fortunate I stayed, as it 

 turned out. There was no regular ford where we 

 made the crossing; we anticipated no trouble, as 

 the water was very low, the season being dry. How 

 ever, we struck a quicksand, in which the wagon set 

 tled, while the frightened horses floundered help 

 lessly. All the riders at once got their ropes on the 

 wagon, and hauling from the saddle, finally pulled 

 it through. This took time; and it was ten o clock 

 when I rode away from the river, at which my horse 

 and I had just drunk our last drink for over 

 twenty-four hours as it turned out. 



After two or three hours ride, up winding coulies, 

 and through the scorched desolation of patches of 

 Bad Lands, I reached the rolling prairie. The heat 

 and drought had long burned the short grass dull 

 brown; the bottoms of what had been pools were 

 covered with hard, dry, cracked earth. The day 

 was cloudless, and the heat oppressive. There were 

 many antelope, but I got only one shot, breaking 

 a buck s leg; and though I followed it for a couple 

 of hours I could not overtake it. By this time it 

 was late in the afternoon, and I was far away from 

 the river; so I pushed for a creek, in the bed of 

 which I had always found pools of water, especially 

 toward the head, as is usual with plains water 

 courses. To my chagrin, however, they all proved 

 to be dry; and though I rode up the creek bed to 

 ward the head, carefully searching for any sign of 



