ioo The Wilderness Hunter 



I walked back to my game, dressed it, and lashed 

 the saddles and hams behind me on my horse; I 

 had chosen old Sorrel Joe for the trip because he 

 was strong, tough, and quiet. Then I started for 

 the ranch, keeping to the prairie as long as I could, 

 because there the going was easier; sometimes I 

 rode, sometimes I ran on foot, leading Sorrel Joe. 



Late in the afternoon, as I rode over a roll in the 

 prairie I saw ahead of me a sight very unusual at 

 that season : a small emigrant train going westward. 

 There were three white-topped prairie schooners, 

 containing the household goods, the tow-headed 

 children, and the hard-faced, bony women ; the tired 

 horses were straining wearily in the traces; the 

 bearded, moody men walked alongside. They had 

 been belated by sickness, and the others of their com- 

 pany had gone ahead to take up claims along the 

 Yellowstone ; now they themselves were pushing for- 

 ward in order to reach the holdings of their friends 

 before the first deep snows stopped all travel. They 

 had no time to halt; for there were still two or 

 three miles to go that evening before they could 

 find a sheltered resting-place with fuel, grass, and 

 water. A little while after passing them I turned 

 in the saddle and looked back. The lonely little 

 train stood out sharply on the sky-line, the wagons 

 looming black against the cold red west as they 

 toiled steadily onward across the snowy plains. 



Night soon fell; but I cared little, for I was on 



