48 CROSSING A PRAIRIE. 



prairies which in that portion of the United States 

 vary the appearance of the country. The weather 

 was fine; all around me was fresh and blooming. My 

 knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had for 

 baggage or for company. But, although well moc- 

 cassined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the 

 brilliancy of the flowers and the gambols of the 

 fawns around their dams, to all appearance as 

 thoughtless of danger as I felt myself. 



" My march was of long duration. I saw the sun 

 sinking beneath the horizon long before I could 

 perceive any appearance of woodland, and nothing 

 in the shape of man had I met that day. The 

 track which I followed was only an old Indian 

 trace, and as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I 

 felt some desire to reach at least a copse in which 

 I might lie down to rest. Shortly after, a firelight 

 attracted my eye. I moved towards it, full of con- 

 fidence that it proceeded from the camp of some 

 wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered 

 by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small 

 log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and re- 

 passed between it and me, as if busily engaged in 

 household arrangements. I reached the spot, and, 

 presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, 

 which proved to be a woman, if I might take shel- 

 ter under her roof for the night. Her voice was 

 gruff, and her attire negligently thrown about her. 



