UNSUCCESSFUL HUNTING. 147 



to go wrong ; the first night it rained in torrents, 

 and our encampment was so situated that there was 

 no protection for man or beast. Worse than all, a* 

 portion of our ammunition became so saturated as 

 to be entirely useless. 



' The next day we entered our hunting range. 

 Mile after mile we traversed the lonely prairie. All 

 appeared still as death. Even the wild fowl and 

 birds of prey had forsaken it, as man would a plague- 

 stricken city. Again, at night, the rain descended 

 with such violence that it seemed to threaten a 

 deluge. The discomfort I experienced, the want of 

 success in our expedition, and the prospect of having 

 to remain longer than we at first proposed, all tended 

 to keep me in a depressed state of spirits. 



' The third day was as unsuccessful as the pre- 

 ceding ones. We saw game, but so wild that it was 

 impossible to get within shooting distance. I pro- 

 posed an immediate return to my father-in-law. He 

 refused to listen to such a course, without at least 

 trying our luck upon the morrow. That day broke 

 bright and cheerful, an omen we accepted as a 

 good one. Nevertheless, at night we had to go 

 supperless to sleep, for our stock of provisions had 

 become exhausted, and no game had been killed. 



1 Our journey home was tedious in the extreme. 

 The ground in many parts was so heavy, in conse- 

 quence of the saturation it had received from the 

 late rains, that our horses, for miles, sunk at every 

 step over their fetlocks. However, we got on ; and at 



