IN THE OLD WEST 



CHAPTER I 



AWAY to the head-waters of the Platte, 

 where several small streams run into the 

 south fork of that river, and head in the 

 broken ridges of the " Divide " which separates 

 the valleys of the Platte and the Arkansa, were 

 camped a band of trappers on a creek called 

 Bijou. It was the month of October, when the 

 early frosts of the coming winter had crisped and 

 dyed with sober brown the leaves of the cherry 

 and quaking ash belting the brooks; and the 

 ridges and peaks of the Rocky Mountains were 

 already covered with a glittering mantle of snow, 

 sparkling in the still powerful rays of the autumn 

 sun. 



The camp had all the appearance of per- 

 manency; for not only did it comprise one or 

 two unusually comfortable shanties, but the 

 numerous stages on which huge strips of buffalo- 

 meat were hanging in process of cure, showed 

 that the party had settled themselves here in 

 order to lay in a store of provisions, or, as it is 

 termed in the language of the mountains, " to 



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