OUR WOOD -BISON HUNT 135 



near bison at all was remarkable, but to have succeeded 

 after a long, hard hunt in actually seeing them, only to 

 have our chance for a kill spoiled by the stupidity or 

 viciousness of our Indians was too keen a grief to be 

 soothed by mutual condolence or cursing Jeremi. 



We went on another day, and saw old tracks of the 

 same herd, but none others, and then we turned our faces 

 Fort-Smithwards, making a circle to get back to our trail 

 where we had camped about the second night. For 

 three days we travelled by the compass, for we were lost, 

 cutting our way through forests of small fir, grown so 

 closely as to render progress almost impossible to a man, 

 much less a train of worn-out dogs. The going was very 

 hard, and hunger, our provisions being gone, less easy 

 to bear now following upon our disappointment. On the 

 fourth day we came out on our trail, and that night Munn 

 and I reached McKinley's cabin, after covering forty-eight 

 miles between 7 A.M. and 8 P.M. Before we slept, we 

 poured our tale of woe into " Mc.'s " sympathetic ears, 

 and then we all decided the only chances of success in a 

 bison-hunt to be time enough to cover their entire range 

 from north to south, and, once on their tracks, binding the 

 Indians hand and foot. 



