IN THE OLD WEST 205 



and no pasture for their miserable animals. One 

 of these they killed for food; the other, a bag of 

 bones, died from sheer starvation. They had very 

 little ammunition, their moccasins were worn out, 

 and they were unable to procure skins to supply 

 themselves with fresh ones. Winter was fast ap- 

 proaching; the snow already covered the moun- 

 tains; and storms of sleet and hail poured inces- 

 santly through the valleys, benumbing their ex- 

 hausted limbs, hardly protected by scanty and 

 ragged covering. To add to their miseries, poor 

 Killbuck was taken ill. He had been wounded in 

 the groin by a bullet some time before, and the 

 ball still remained. The wound, aggravated by 

 walking and the excessive cold, assumed an ugly 

 appearance, and soon rendered him incapable of 

 sustained exertion, all motion even being attended 

 with intolerable pain. La Bonte had made a 

 shanty for his suffering companion, and spread a 

 soft bed of pine branches for him, by the side of a 

 small creek at the point where it came out of the 

 mountain and followed its course through a little 

 prairie. They had been three days without other 

 food than a piece of parfleche, which had formed 

 the back of La Bonte's bullet-pouch, and which, 

 after soaking in the creek, they eagerly devoured. 

 Killbuck was unable to move, and sinking fast 

 from exhaustion. His companion had hunted 

 from morning till night, as well as his failing 

 strength would allow him, but had not seen the 



