A NEW SENSATION. 63 



fifteen say thirty-five miles off. The Indian would 

 hardly go straight back ; the necessity was not pressing 

 enough to induce him to make his ride a seventy miles 

 one after a day spent in hunting; he was probably fast 

 asleep in some thicket, his hobbled horse feeding or 

 reposing near him. If so, he would certainly sleep six 

 hours, then arise, eat a few yards of jerky, take a drink 

 from the river, and start out to rejoin his party, reaching 

 them about two o'clock in the afternoon. If we moved 

 immediately, we should have a start of thirty-five miles and 

 nearly ten hours. Our mules had done nothing but fetch 

 meat into camp from time to time since we had lain there. 

 They were as fresh as paint. Our horses were in hard 

 condition^ and we knew our way back. Though loaded, 

 we could easily do forty miles in the ten hours. Thus we 

 should have a start of seventy-five miles. 



" A stern chase " is proverbially " a long one," and such a 

 start was a big bite out of the distance to Fort Riley. The 

 odds were we could beat a pursuing party there easily if we 

 had no breakdown and did not spare the animals, and if our 

 conjectures and calculations were only correct. 



We might be frightening ourselves for nothing. We might 

 be attacked before daylight ; but we decided on immediate 

 flight. We had come out for a hunt. We had hunted. We 

 were about to try the experiment of feeling that we were 

 being hunted. Novelty is the spice of life. Galloping after 

 buffaloes had become monotonous. There was a fine chance 

 for a new sensation. 



Everything was quickly packed and loaded into the 

 waggon, the mules harnessed and hitched up, horses saddled 



