Deer of the River Bottoms. 125 



travelling at the rate we had been going to bring us in, and 

 as the country was monotonous, without much game, we 

 concluded we would leave the wagon with the driver, and 

 taking advantage of the full moon, push through the whole 

 distance before breakfast next morning. Accordingly, we 

 at nine o'clock again saddled the tough little ponies we 

 had ridden all day and loped off out of the circle of fire- 

 light. For nine hours we rode steadily, generally at a 

 quick lope, across the moon-lit prairie. The hoof-beats 

 of our horses rang out in steady rhythm through the 

 silence of the night, otherwise unbroken save now and 

 then by the wailing cry of a coyote. The rolling plains 

 stretched out on all sides of us, shimmering in the clear 

 moonlight ; and occasionally a band of spectral-looking 

 antelope swept silently away from before our path. Once 

 we went by a drove of Texan cattle, who stared wildly at 

 the intruders ; as we passed they charged down by us, the 

 ground rumbling beneath their tread, while their long 

 horns knocked against each other with a sound like the 

 clattering of a multitude of castanets. We could see 

 clearly enough to keep our general course over the track- 

 less plain, steering by the stars where the prairie was per- 

 fectly level and without landmarks ; and our ride was timed 

 well, for as we galloped down into the valley of the Little 

 Missouri the sky above the line of level bluffs in our front 

 was crimson with the glow of the unrisen sun. 



