THE CAVALCADE EN ROUTE. 69 



traps, and unquestionably belonged to that strong- 

 minded type for which I had always entertained the 

 highest respect. I had no alternative, therefore, but 

 to agree to her proposal. 



On the morrow all was ready. My mule, which 

 had heretofore had nothing but his own carcass to 

 carry, was, much to his disgust, assigned a load of 

 skins. Even the dogs were turned into beasts of 

 burthen, and most obstreperous ones they proved. 

 A couple of long poles, similar to exaggerated shafts 

 of a one-horse conveyance, were fastened to their 

 sides, and on each of these was lashed a small pack. 

 The squaw with her baby, straddled, not sidled, her 

 own nag, while I mounted my mare, and thus the 

 cavalcade started. Could any of those old friends 

 who had been my constant companions when kid- 

 gloves, neck-ties of various hues, and immaculate 

 collars, formed my chief ambition, have seen me at 

 that moment accompanied by my female fellow- 

 traveller, they would have laughed heartily at the 

 figure I presented. For ten days we pursued our 

 journey, nothing breaking its dull monotony but the 

 powerful voice of the papoose demanding, at rather 

 frequent intervals for my repose, a renewal of his 

 natural nutriment, or the howls of the dogs when 

 flagellated by the squaw for some breach of dis- 

 cipline. 



Large game was very scarce and wild, but as we 

 were provided with a fair supply of comestibles, 

 this was a matter of little importance. In many 



