LIFE IN THE FAR WEST 169 



glittering in lazy coil. Tantalising the parched sight, 

 the neighbouring peaks of the lofty Wind River Moun- 

 tains glittered in a mantle of sparkling snow, whilst 

 Sweet Water Mountain, capped in cloud, looked gray 

 and cool, in striking contrast to the burned-up plains 

 which lay basking at its foot. 



Resting their backs against the rock, (on which we 

 have said, are now carved the names of many travellers,) 

 and defended from the pQwerful rays of the sun by its 

 precipitous sides, two white men quietly slept. They 

 were gaunt and Ian tern -jawed, and clothed in tattered 

 buckskin. Each held a rifle across his knees, but 

 strange sight in this country one had its pan thrown 

 open, which was rust-eaten and contained no priming ; 

 the other's hammer was without a flint. Their faces 

 were as if covered with mahogany-coloured parchment ; 

 their eyes were sunken ; and as their jaws fell listlessly 

 on their breasts, their cheeks were hollow, with the 

 bones nearly protruding from the skin. One was in 

 the prime of manhood, with handsome features ; the 

 other, considerably past middle age, was stark and 

 stern. Months of dire privation had brought them 

 to this pass. The elder of the two was Killbuck, of 

 mountain fame ; the other was hight La Bonte. 



The former opened his eyes, and saw the buffalo 

 feeding on the plain. " Ho, boy," he said, touching his 

 companion, " thar's meat a-runnin." 



La Bonte looked in the direction the other pointed, 

 stood up, and, hitching round his pouch and powder- 

 horn, drew the stopper from the latter with his teeth, 



