232 BUFFALO LAND. 



there, and after breakfast a council of war was held. 

 I am somewhat ashamed to record that it voted 

 no hunting that day. To find the noblest of Amer- 

 ican game some of us had come half away across the 

 continent, and now, in sight of it, the tide of enthu- 

 siasm which had swept us forward hitherto stood sud- 

 denly still. Not because it was about to ebb, but sim- 

 ply in obedience to certain signals of distress flying 

 from the various barks, and which it was utterly im- 

 possible for any of us to conceal. 



For mounting a horse was entirely out of the ques- 

 tion for that day. Not one of us could have swung 

 himself into saddle for any less motive than a race 

 with death. Our steps were slow and painful, and we 

 felt as if, at this period of life's voyage, every timber 

 of our several crafts had been pounded separately 

 upon some of the hidden rocks of ocean. It was ab- 

 solutely necessary to go into clock for repairs, and 

 the valley promised to be a pleasant harbor. 



It was a truly melancholy spectacle to behold Sa- 

 chem and Muggs. The liveliest and the gayest ones 

 yesterday, but to-day the gravest of the grave. That 

 rotund form, which always doubted his own or other 

 people's emotions, was the walking embodiment of 

 woe, and for once evidently clear of all doubt upon 

 one subject, at least. Muggs was even free to con- 

 fess that, for general results, yesterday's rough rid- 

 ing exceeded " a 'unt with the 'ounds." Our ani- 

 mals were also quite stiff, but the hostlers attributed 

 this not so much to their yesterday's service as to 

 their long ride in the cars. They had not yet got 

 their " land legs " fully on again. It was soothing to 



