150 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
After turning my nags loose that they might graze upon 
the bunch-grass, which was abundant in the bottom-lands 
beneath my encampment, I examined the stock of food in 
the larder, and found, as I almost could have foretold if I 
had thought upon the matter, that it was reduced to one 
rib of venison, and that but poorly provided with meat. 
Submitting it with hungry eyes to the smoke and ashes, I 
observed with any thing but gratified look that the eatable 
portion rapidly diminished under the effects of the fire. 
When it was sufficiently cooked to become eatable, there 
was not more left than would have satisfied the appetite of 
a hungry tabby. Nevertheless, I ate and was thankful, con- 
soling myself with the hope that ere the sun reached the 
meridian I should shoot something sufficiently substantial 
to afford a good meal. But no such fortune was in store 
for me. I tramped over fell and valley, through bush and 
over open valleys, and naught rewarded my search but in- 
numerable tracks, so old and stale that it would have been 
madness to follow them up. 
Weak from want of food, and anxious to know whether 
I was doomed to die of starvation, I returned to camp dis- 
satisfied, more than angry with myself that my love for 
adventure and wandering had reduced me to such straits. 
Of course I could have killed either my mare or mule; but 
no, I would not slaughter the good, faithful animals that 
had stood by me in all adversity, who had before this saved 
my life, and now at the present time returned to me at my 
call with the confidence of children in their parent. Fie 
upon me! why should I permit such a thought for an in- 
stant to hover through my brain? 
I had got sufficiently close to my sleeping-place to per- 
ceive the white smoke circling from the gradually expiring 
. fire, when again I came across the grizzly’s track, and so 
fresh that I felt sure its maker had been at the camp dur- 
