426 



RECREA TION. 



Almost in our path, a graceful group of 

 deer halted and with mildly wondering eyes 

 gazed upon us. A flock of turkeys crossed 

 the trail, picking their way in stately style. 

 In a swaying tree-top on the edge of a 

 water course rocked an eager hawk watch- 

 ing for his prey. Wild cattle, " glowered, 

 amazed and curious," then stamped the 

 earth and disappeared. 



But I was not looking for game. The 

 burden of my serious thought was the 

 probability that the Canadian would be 

 " bank full " before we could reach the 

 ford. I began to worry, and grew less 

 cheerful after swimming the Walnut, or- 

 dinarily a sandy bed with a silver thread 

 winding through it, but now an icy torrent 

 which evoked a spasmodic gasp from Mur- 

 phy as he followed me into its whirling 

 eddies. 



As the day was about to close we reached 

 the river and the trees on the opposite 

 bank, about 400 yards away, were shadowy 

 and dim in the waning light. Necessity 

 compelled us to attempt a crossing and we 

 plunged into the stream. At once our 

 horses were carried off , their feet, but after 

 a tussle with the ruddy current for about 40 

 yards we struck a succession of sand bars 

 and soon safely reached the left bank of the 

 river, wet, shivering and thankful. 



It was dark and we had missed the out- 

 come of the ford, to the right of which 

 emptied Choteau creek where we were to 

 find Ballou's shack. Being disinclined to 

 risk getting farther away from it by search- 

 ing in a dark night and unknown country 

 for a path that was probably hidden beneath 

 the overflow of the river, I decided to make 

 camp and await the return of day. There 

 seemed to be high ground just in front, and 

 so I led the way thither through a swampy 

 grove of sumac. Our horses' hoofs sank 

 silently in the spongy soil, the cold rain 

 still fell, and 



" In the gloaming, oh, my gracious ! " 



the dark trunks and boughs of the sumacs 

 showed darker still. Close at my side, look- 

 ing straight to the front, rode a horseman. 

 At first I thought it was Murphy, but in- 

 spection told me this man sat higher in 

 the saddle, and was armed and equipped 

 as a cavalryman. I looked behind to see 

 what had become of Murphy, and beheld, 

 following the first and similarly accoutred, 

 a troop of cavalrymen in column en route. 

 Murphy was in his usual place too. After 

 a moment spent in regarding these silent 

 riders, there was none of the clank and 

 clatter that heralds the march of a troop 

 of horsemen, I was impelled to put forth my 

 right hand to touch the man who rode at 

 my side. It seemed to pass through the 

 form which still rode silently on. Then, 



in spite of myself, I attempted to seize the 

 bridle-rein and grasped — nothing. Turning 

 again to Murphy, I asked him if he saw 

 those men. What he thought I only 

 guessed, but he said half resentfully, " It's 

 mesilf that ud be glad of a chance to see 

 double in this haythenish counthry." And 

 still the shadowy escort silently rode on 

 until, as we emerged from the timber and 

 into the open they melted suddenly away. 

 I had seen a phantasy resulting from worry 

 and fatigue. 



We drew rein at a spot that seemed to be 

 less sloppy than the rest of the country and 

 went into camp. No fire, of course, every- 

 thing soaked. Wet bread and waterlogged 

 meat could not tempt me, but the faithful 

 Murphy did his duty and with a contented 

 shiver retired for the night. I managed 

 to patch up some sort of a bed with steam- 

 ing saddle blankets and a buffalo robe, and 

 then lay down, but not to sleep. I was 

 so anxious over the possibility of not be- 

 ing able to get through with the dispatch, 

 that rest was as far off as appetite. Look- 

 ing toward where the animals had been 

 hitched to a small tree, I saw a man stand- 

 ing by my horse's head. I sprang at the 

 fellow, and as I reached the spot, he faded 

 into thin air. 



With a weak attempt at a laugh, I re- 

 turned to my dewy couch, whence I not 

 only saw the old year out, but watched 

 the shadowy forms that came and went in 

 our little camp, till a dull, bleary, tottering 

 sort of sunrise permitted me to arouse Mur- 

 phy, and wish him the compliments of the 

 season. After that we deployed as skir- 

 mishers over the flooded country near the 

 river and soon found the lost trail which 

 led to the shack of Dave Ballou. 



With this gentleman marriage had not 

 been a failure, for he had 5 squaws. One 

 fair Odalisque took our horses, another 

 comforted us with hot coffee, and the rest 

 made themselves social successes in the 

 gentle accomplishments of chopping wood 

 and building fires, while their lazy lord 

 stared at us through clouds of smoke from 

 an unpleasant pipe. 



Next morning we pushed on for another 

 50 mile heat, making Little river, a scraggly 

 settlement of sad Seminoles who were dis- 

 mally failing in their endeavors to live like 

 white men without the aid of the saloon 

 and the meeting-house. Here Murphy gave 

 out. The poor fellow had frozen both feet 

 during our long, wet ride to the Canadian, 

 and, knowing no better, had held them 

 close to the fire at Ballou's. I was obliged 

 to leave him with some of the Indians, but 

 he turned up all right soon afterward. 



Three days later the dispatch was in the 

 hands of the commanding officer of Fort 

 Gibson. 



