Gaining the top of a hill, we could see along the cloudy verge of the prairie before us lines of trees and shadowy groves that marked the course of Laramie Creek.Some time before noon we reached its banks and began anxiously to search them for footprints of the Indians.We followed the stream for several miles, now on the shore and now wading in the water, scrutinizing every sand-bar and every muddy bank.So long was the search that we began to fear that we had left the trail undiscovered behind us.At length I heard Raymond shouting, and saw him jump from his mule to examine some object under the shelving bank.I rode up to his side.It was the clear and palpable impression of an Indian moccasin.Encouraged by this we continued our search, and at last some appearances on a soft surface of earth not far from the shore attracted my eye; and going to examine them I found half a dozen tracks, some made by men and some by children.Just then Raymond observed across the stream the mouth of a small branch entering it from the south.He forded the water, rode in at the opening, and in a moment I heard him shouting again, so I passed over and joined him.The little branch had a broad sandy bed, along which the water trickled in a scanty stream; and on either bank the bushes were so close that the view was completely intercepted.I found Raymond stooping over the footprints of three or four horses.Proceeding we found those of a man, then those of a child, then those of more horses; and at last the bushes on each bank were beaten down and broken, and the sand plowed up with a multitude of footsteps, and scored across with the furrows made by the lodge-poles that had been dragged through.It was now certain that we had found the trail.I pushed through the bushes, and at a little distance on the prairie beyond found the ashes of a hundred and fifty lodge fires, with bones and pieces of buffalo robes scattered around them, and in some instances the pickets to which horses had been secured still standing in the ground.Elated by our success we selected a convenient tree, and turning the animals loose, prepared to make a meal from the fat haunch of our victim.
Hardship and exposure had thriven with me wonderfully.I had gained both health and strength since leaving La Bonte's Camp.Raymond and I made a hearty meal together in high spirits, for we rashly presumed that having found one end of the trail we should have little difficulty in reaching the other.But when the animals were led in we found that our old ill luck had not ceased to follow us close.As I was saddling Pauline I saw that her eye was as dull as lead, and the hue of her yellow coat visibly darkened.I placed my foot in the stirrup to mount, when instantly she staggered and fell flat on her side.Gaining her feet with an effort she stood by the fire with a drooping head.Whether she had been bitten by a snake or poisoned by some noxious plant or attacked by a sudden disorder, it was hard to say; but at all events her sickness was sufficiently ill-timed and unfortunate.I succeeded in a second attempt to mount her, and with a slow pace we moved forward on the trail of the Indians.It led us up a hill and over a dreary plain; and here, to our great mortification, the traces almost disappeared, for the ground was hard as adamant; and if its flinty surface had ever retained the print of a hoof, the marks had been washed away by the deluge of yesterday.
An Indian village, in its disorderly march, is scattered over the prairie, often to the width of full half a mile; so that its trail is nowhere clearly marked, and the task of following it is made doubly wearisome and difficult.By good fortune plenty of large ant-hills, a yard or more in diameter, were scattered over the plain, and these were frequently broken by the footprints of men and horses, and marked by traces of the lodge-poles.The succulent leaves of the prickly-pear, also bruised from the same causes, helped a little to guide us; so inch by inch we moved along.Often we lost the trail altogether, and then would recover it again, but late in the afternoon we found ourselves totally at fault.We stood alone without clew to guide us.The broken plain expanded for league after league around us, and in front the long dark ridge of mountains was stretching from north to south.Mount Laramie, a little on our right, towered high above the rest and from a dark valley just beyond one of its lower declivities, we discerned volumes of white smoke slowly rolling up into the clear air.
"I think," said Raymond, "some Indians must be there.Perhaps we had better go." But this plan was not rashly to be adopted, and we determined still to continue our search after the lost trail.Our good stars prompted us to this decision, for we afterward had reason to believe, from information given us by the Indians, that the smoke was raised as a decoy by a Crow war party.
Evening was coming on, and there was no wood or water nearer than the foot of the mountains.So thither we turned, directing our course toward the point where Laramie Creek issues forth upon the prairie.
