io8 The Wilderness Hunter 



across the river. It was fortunate I stayed, as it 

 turned out. There was no regular ford where we 

 made the crossing; we anticipated no trouble, as 

 the water was very low, the season being dry. How- 

 ever, we struck a quicksand, in which the wagon set- 

 tled, while the frightened horses floundered help- 

 lessly. All the riders at once got their ropes on the 

 wagon, and hauling from the saddle, finally pulled 

 it through. This took time; and it was ten o'clock 

 when I rode away from the river, at which my horse 

 and I had just drunk our last drink for over 

 twenty-four hours as it turned out. 



After two or three hours' ride, up winding coulies, 

 and through the scorched desolation of patches of 

 Bad Lands, I reached the rolling prairie. The heat 

 and drought had long burned the short grass dull 

 brown; the bottoms of what had been pools were 

 covered with hard, dry, cracked earth. The day 

 was cloudless, and the heat oppressive. There were 

 many antelope, but I got only one shot, breaking 

 a buck's leg; and though I followed it for a couple 

 of hours I could not overtake it. By this time it 

 was late in the afternoon, and I was far away from 

 the river; so I pushed for a creek, in the bed of 

 which I had always found pools of water, especially 

 toward the head, as is usual with plains water- 

 courses. To my chagrin, however, they all proved 

 to be dry; and though I rode up the creek bed to- 

 ward the head, carefully searching for any sign of 



