92 Life of a Fossil Hunter 



us over, but his voice was not recognized, and as 

 the sergeant was afraid that the call might come 

 from some Indian who had prepared an ambush, he 

 refused to respond. We were soaked with perspira- 

 tion, and rapidly becoming chilled by a cold fog that 

 was rising along the shore, and we were obliged to 

 walk back and forth to keep warm until the Profes- 

 sor had recovered his natural voice. 



Then, in his haste to correct his error, the ser- 

 geant sent a boat across in the wrong place, and it 

 was turned over in the rapids. He had to rescue the 

 half-drowned men, capture the boat, and try again. 



At last, however, we were warming ourselves in 

 a tent, where a pot of beans was simmering for the 

 soldiers' breakfast. Not a bean was left when we 

 got through with them, and three pounds of rasp- 

 berry jam, spread upon, I was going to say a box of, 

 hardtack, followed the beans. Then the sergeant 

 took us both out into the open air and turned back 

 the big black tarpaulin covering the gold ore that 

 was to be shipped to the smelter at Omaha. He 

 made us a warm nest of new blankets, and when we 

 had crawled into it, pulled the tarpaulin back into 

 place. Did we sleep? Ask the deckhands who let 

 the sunlight in upon us about nine o'clock the next 

 morning, when they pulled away the tarpaulin to 

 load the ore. 



Cope at once sought the captain of the boat and 



