TWILIGHT MUSINGS. 129 



much more pleasant experience than that of Indian 

 guns would have been. The harvest of scalps had 

 reached high noon some time before. Far off, south 

 of the Arkansas, the savages had their home, and 

 from thence, like baleful will-o'-the-wisps, they would 

 suddenly flash out, and then flash back when pur- 

 sued, and be lost in those remote regions. Lately, 

 United States troops have been so placed that the 

 Indian villages may be struck, if necessary, and retal- 

 iation had; and this, together with the pacificatory 

 efforts of the Quaker agents, is doing much to bring 

 about a condition of things which promises perma- 

 nent peace. 



Here our party was at Hays, the objective point of 

 our journey, and our base of operations against the 

 treasures of the past and present, which alike covered 

 the country around. This little town is in the midst 

 of the great buffalo range. Away upon every side 

 of it stretch those vast plains where the short, crisp 

 grass curls to the ridges, like an African's kinky hair to 

 his skull. Bison and wild horse, antelope and wolf, for 

 weeks were now to be our neighbors, appearing and 

 vanishing over the great expanse like large and small 

 piratical crafts on an ocean. We w r ere kindly received 

 at the Big Creek Land Company's office, on the out- 

 skirts of the town, and there deposited our guns and 

 baggage. Our horses were expected on the morrow. 



Twilight found us, after a busy afternoon, sitting 

 around the office door,-with that tired feeling which a 

 traveler has when mind and body are equally ex- 

 hausted. Our very tongues were silent, those useful 

 members having wagged until even they were grate- 



