42 ON THE FRONTIER. 



willows larger and larger, and at last the reeds became a 

 continuous bed, with a miniature river flowing through 

 them. It got darker and more dark, also muddy and more 

 muddy, and the wearied horses commenced to slip and 

 stumble. All at once one of us came a cropper, horse and 

 man rolled over together. The man and rifle fortunately 

 unhurt, but the former badly shaken ; and though a careful 

 inspection of the horse revealed no serious strain, it had 

 clearly become a case of walk and lead, or of probably 

 breaking our necks. To have to walk was indeed to have 

 bad made worse, for we were shod with moccasins, which, 

 though most comfortable for riding in, and in dry weather 

 by all odds the best arrangement for the feet for walking 

 are, when the ground is wet, utter abominations for such 

 purpose. Then they stretch until your feet seem cased in 

 pudding bags, they slip all ways, they pick up mud until 

 your feet are like those of elephants, they are simply 

 killing ; and besides, our tired beasts, who had been difficult 

 enough to urge along while under us, when being led, 

 hung back on their bridles instead of following, and 

 brought us to a stop. We tied them together, one of us 

 took the end of the " lariat " over his shoulder, threw his 

 weight on it and trudged on ; the other, furnishing himself 

 with a long willow persuader, floundered along behind, 

 arguing with the horses. I have heard people say that 

 going out on a buffalo hunt is " no end of fun, you know ; " 

 .well, so it is, but it has its averages. By-and-by the rain 

 decreased to a drizzle, and though it had been for some 

 hours night, the light increased, and the range of our 

 vision extending, allowed us to perceive we had got into a 



