We had about one thousand miles to travel, and as there was
          no wagon-road in those early days across the plains to the
          mountains, we were compelled to take our chances through
          the vast wilderness, seeking the best route we could.

          No signs of life were visible except the innumerable buffalo
          and antelope that were constantly crossing our trail.
          We moved on slowly from day to day without any incident
          worth recording and arrived at the Arkansas; made the
          passage and entered the Great American Desert lying beyond,
          as listless, lonesome, and noiseless as a sleeping sea.
          Having neglected to carry any water with us, we were obliged
          to go withot a drop for two days and nights after leaving
          the river.  At last we reached the Cimarron, a cool,
          sparkling stream, ourselves and our animals on the point
          of perishing.  Our joy at discovering it, however, was
          short-lived.  We had scarcely quenched our thirst when
          we saw, to our dismay, a large band of Indians camped on
          its banks.  Their furtive glances at us, and significant
          looks at each other, aroused our worst suspicions, and
          we instinctively felt we were not to get away without
          serious trouble.  Contrary to our expectations, however,
          they did not offer to molest us, and we at once made up
          our minds they preferred to wait for our return, as we
          believed they had somehow learned of our intention to bring
          back from New Mexico a large herd of mules and ponies.

          We arrived in Santa Fe on the 20th of July, without further
          adventure, and after having our stock of goods passed
          through the custom house, were granted the privilege of
          selling them.  The majority of the party sold out in a
          very short time and started on their road to the States,
          leaving twenty-one of us behind to return later.

          On the first day of September, those of us who had remained
          in Santa Fe commenced our homeward journey.  We started
          with one hundred and fifty mules and horses, four wagons,
          and a large amount of silver coin.  Nothing of an eventful
          character occurred until we arrived at the Upper Cimarron
          Springs, where we intended to encamp for the night.
          But our anticipations of peaceable repose were rudely
          dispelled; for when we rode up on the summit of the hill,
          the sight that met our eyes was appalling enough to excite
          the gravest apprehensions.  It was a large camp of
          Comanches, evidently there for the purpose of robbery
          and murder.  We could neither turn back nor go on either
          side of them on account of the mountainous character of
          the country, and we realized, when too late, that we were
          in a trap.

          There was only one road open to us; that right through
          the camp.  Assuming the bravest look possible, and keeping
          our rifles in position for immediate action, we started
          on the perilous venture.  The chief met us with a smile
          of welcome, and said, in Spanish: "You must stay with us
          to-night.  Our young men will guard your stock, and we have
          plenty of buffalo meat."

          Realizing the danger of our situation, we took advantage
          of every moment of time to hurry through their camp.
          Captain Means, Ellison, and myself were a little distance
          behind the wagons, on horseback; observing that the balance
          of our men were evading them, the blood-thirsty savages
          at once threw off their masks of dissimulation and in an
          instant we knew the time for a struggle had arrived.

          The Indians, as we rode on, seized our bridle-reins and
          began to fire upon us.  Ellison and I put spurs to our
          horses and got away, but Captain Means, a brave man,
          was ruthlessly shot and cruelly scalped while the life-blood
          was pouring from his ghastly wounds.

          We succeeded in fighting them off until we had left their
          camp half a mile behind, and as darkness had settled down
          on us, we decided to go into camp ourselves.  We tied our
          gray bell-mare to a stake, and went out and jingled the
          bell, whenever any of us could do so, thus keeping the
          animals from stampeding.  We corralled our wagons for
          better protection, and the Indians kept us busy all night
          resisting their furious charges.  We all knew that death
          at our posts would be infinitely preferable to falling
          into their hands; so we resolved to sell our lives as
          dearly as possible.

          The next day we made but five miles; it was a continuous
          fight, and a very difficult matter to prevent their
          capturing us.  This annoyance was kept up for four days;
          they would surround us, then let up as if taking time to
          renew their strength, to suddenly charge upon us again,
          and they continued thus to harass us until we were almost
          exhausted from loss of sleep.

          After leaving the Cimarron, we once more emerged on the
          open plains and flattered ourselves we were well rid of
          the savages; but about twelve o'clock they came down on us
          again, uttering their demoniacal yells, which frightened
          our horses and mules so terribly, that we lost every hoof.
          A member of our party, named Hitt, in endeavouring to
          recapture some of the stolen stock, was taken by the
          savages, but luckily escaped from their clutches, after
          having been wounded in sixteen parts of his body;
          he was shot, tomahawked, and speared.  When the painted
          demons saw that one of their number had been killed by us,
          they left the field for a time, while we, taking advantage
          of the temporary lull, went back to our wagons and built
          breastworks of them, the harness, and saddles.  From noon
          until two hours in the night, when the moon went down,
          the savages were apparently confident we would soon fall
          a prey to them, and they made charge after charge upon
          our rude fortifications.

          Darkness was now upon us.  There were two alternatives
          before us: should we resolve to die where we were, or
          attempt to escape in the black hours of the night?
          It was a desperate situation.  Our little band looked
          the matter squarely in the face, and, after a council
          of war had been held, we determined to escape, if possible.

          In order to carry out our resolve, it was necessary to
          abandon the wagons, together with a large amount of silver
          coin, as it would be impossible to take all of the precious
          stuff with us in our flight; so we packed up as much of it
          as we could carry, and, bidding our hard-earned wealth
          a reluctant farewell, stepped out in the darkness like
          spectres and hurried away from the scene of death.

          Our proper course was easterly, but we went in a northerly
          direction in order to avoid the Indians.  We travelled
          all that night, the next day, and a portion of its night
          until we reached the Arkansas River, and, having eaten
          nothing during that whole time excepting a few prickly-pears,
          were beginning to feel weak from the weight of our burdens
          and exhaustion.  At this point we decided to lighten
          our loads by burying all of the money we had carried
          thus far, keeping only a small sum for each man.
          Proceeding to a small island in the river, our treasure,
          amounting to over ten thousand silver dollars, was cached
          in the ground between two cottonwood trees.

          Believing now that we were out of the usual range of
          the predatory Indians, we shot a buffalo and an antelope
          which we cooked and ate without salt or bread; but no meal
          has ever tasted better to me than that one.

          We continued our journey northward for three or four days
          more, when, reaching Pawnee Fork, we travelled down it for
          more than a week, arriving again on the Old Santa Fe Trail.
          Following the Trail three days, we arrived at Walnut Creek,
          then left the river again and went eastwardly to Cow Creek.
          When we reached that point, we had become so completely
          exhausted and worn out from subsisting on buffalo meat
          alone, that it seemed as if there was nothing left for
          us to do but lie down and die.  Finally it was determined
          to send five of the best-preserved men on ahead to
          Independence, two hundred miles, for the purpose of
          procuring assistance; the other fifteen to get along
          as well as they could until succour reached them.

          I was one of the five selected to go on in advance, and
          I shall never forget the terrible suffering we endured.
          We had no blankets, and it was getting late in the fall.
          Some of us were entirely barefooted, and our feet so sore
          that we left stains of blood at every step.  Deafness, too,
          seized upon us so intensely, occasioned by our weak
          condition, that we coud not hear the report of a gun fired
          at a distance of only a few feet.

          At one place two of our men laid down their arms, declaring
          they could carry them no farther, and would die if they
          did not get water.  We left them and went in search of some.
          After following a dry branch several miles, we found
          a muddy puddle from which we succeeded in getting half
          a bucket full, and, although black and thick, it was life
          for us and we guarded it with jealous eyes.  We returned
          to our comrades about daylight, and the water so refreshed
          them they were able to resume the weary march.  We travelled
          on until we arrived at the Big Blue River, in Missouri,
          on the bank of which we discovered a cabin about fifteen
          miles from Independence.  The occupants of the rude shanty
          were women, seemingly very poor, but they freely offered us
          a pot of pumpkin they were stewing.  When they first saw us,
          they were terribly frightened, because we looked more like
          skeletons than living beings.  They jumped on the bed while
          we were greedily devouring the pumpkin, but we had to
          refuse some salt meat which they had also proffered,
          as our teeth were too sore to eat it.  In a short time
          two men came to the cabin and took three of our men
          home with them.  We had subsisted for eleven days on
          one turkey, a coon, a crow, and some elm bark, with an
          occasional bunch of wild grapes, and the pictures we
          presented to these good people they will never, probably,
          forget; we had not tasted bread or salt for thirty-two days.

          The next day our newly found friends secured horses and
          guided us to Independence, all riding without saddles.
          One of the party had gone on to notify the citizens of
          our safety, and when we arrived general muster was going on,
          the town was crowded, and when the people looked upon us
          the most intense excitement prevailed.  All business was
          suspended; the entire population flocked around us to hear
          the remarkable story of our adventures, and to render us
          the assistance we so much needed.  We were half-naked,
          foot-sore, and haggard, presenting such a pitiable picture
          that the greatest sympathy was immediately aroused in
          our behalf.

          We then said that behind us on the Trail somewhere, fifteen
          comrades were struggling toward Independence, or were
          already dead from their sufferings.  In a very few minutes
          seven men with fifteen horses started out to rescue them.

          They were gone from Independence several days, but had the
          good fortune to find all the men just in time to save them
          from starvation and exhaustion.  Two were discovered
          a hundred miles from Independence, and the remainder
          scattered along the Trail fifty miles further in their rear.
          Not more than two of the unfortunate party were together.
          The humane rescuers seemingly brought back nothing but
          living skeletons wrapped in rags; but the good people of
          the place vied with each other in their attentions, and
          under their watchful care the sufferers rapidly recuperated.

          One would suppose that we had had enough of the great plains
          after our first trip; not so, however, for in the spring
          we started again on the same journey.  Major Riley, with
          four companies of regular soldiers, was detailed to escort
          the Santa Fe traders' caravans to the boundary line between
          the United States and Mexico, and we went along to recover
          the money we had buried, the command having been ordered to
          remain in camp to await our return until the 20th of October.

          We left Fort Leavenworth about the 10th of May, and were
          soon again on the plains.  Many of the troops had never
          seen any buffalo before, and found great sport in wantonly
          slaughtering them.  At Walnut Creek we halted to secure
          a cannon which had been thrown into that stream two seasons
          previously, and succeeded in dragging it out.  With a seine
          made of brush and grape vine, we caught more fine fish than
          we could possibly dispose of.  One morning the camp was
          thrown into the greatest state of excitement by a band of
          Indians running an enormous herd of buffalo right into us.
          The troops fired at them by platoons, killing hundreds
          of them.

          We marched in two columns, and formed a hollow square
          at night when we camped, in which all slept excepting
          those on guard duty.  Frequently some one would discover
          a rattlesnake or a horned toad in bed with him, and it
          did not take him a very long time to crawl out of his
          blankets!

          On the 10th of July, we arrived at the dividing line
          separating the two countries, and went into camp.  The next
          day Major Riley sent a squad of soldiers to escort myself
          and another of our old party, who had helped bury the
          ten thousand dollars, to find it.  It was a few miles
          further up the Arkansas than our camp, in the Mexican
          limits, and when we reached the memorable spot on the
          island,20 we found the coin safe, but the water had
          washed the earth away, and the silver was exposed to view
          to excite the cupidity of any one passing that way;
          there were not many travellers on that lonely route in
          those days, however, and it would have been just as secure,
          probably, had we simply poured it on the ground.

          We put the money in sacks and deposited it with Major Riley,
          and, leaving the camp, started for Santa Fe with Captain
          Bent as leader of the traders.  We had not proceeded far
          when our advanced guard met Indians.  They turned, and when
          within two hundred yards of us, one man named Samuel Lamme
          was killed, his body being completely riddled with arrows.
          His head was cut off, and all his clothes stripped from
          his body.  We had a cannon, but the Mexicans who hauled it
          had tied it up in such a way that it could not be utilized
          in time to effect anything in the first assault; but when
          at last it was turned loose upon the Indians, they fled
          in dismay at the terrible noise.

          The troops at the crossing of the Arkansas, hearing the
          firing, came to our assistance.  The next morning the
          hills were covered by fully two thousand Indians, who had
          evidently congregated there for the purpose of annihilating
          us, and the coming of the soldiers was indeed fortunate;
          for as soon as the cowardly savages discovered them
          they fled.  Major Riley accompanied us on our march for
          a few days, and, seeing no more Indians, he returned to
          his camp.

          We travelled on for a week, then met a hundred Mexicans
          who were out on the plains hunting buffalo.  They had
          killed a great many and were drying the meat.  We waited
          until they were ready to return and then all started for
          Santa Fe together.

          At Rabbit-Ear Mountain the Indians had constructed
          breastworks in the brush, intending to fight it out there.
          The Mexicans were in the advance and had one of their
          number killed before discovering the enemy.  We passed
          Point of Rocks and camped on the river.  One of the
          Mexicans went out hunting and shot a huge panther;
          next morning he asked a companion to go with him and help
          skin the animal.  They saw the Indians in the brush, and
          the one who had killed the panther said to the other,
          "Now for the mountains"; but his comrade retreated,
          and was despatched by the savages almost within reach
          of the column.

          We now decided to change our destination, intending to go
          to Taos instead of Santa Fe, but the governor of the
          Province sent out troops to stop us, as Taos was not a
          place of entry.  The soldiers remained with us a whole week,
          until we arrived at Santa Fe, where we disposed of our goods
          and soon began to make preparations for our return trip.

          When we were ready to start back, seven priests and a
          number of wealthy families, comfortably fixed in carriages,
          accompanied us.  The Mexican government ordered Colonel
          Viscarra of the army, with five troops of cavalry,
          to guard us to the camp of Major Riley.

          We experienced no trouble until we arrived at the
          Cimarron River.  About sunset, just as we were preparing
          to camp for the night, the sentinels saw a body of a
          hundred Indians approaching; they fired at them and ran
          to camp.  Knowing they had been discovered, the Indians
          came on and made friendly overtures; but the Pueblos who
          who were with the command of Colonel Viscarra wanted to
          fight them at once, saying the fellows meant mischief.
          We declined to camp with them unless they would agree to
          give up their arms; they pretended they were willing to
          do so, when one of them put his gun at the breast of our
          interpreter and pulled the trigger.  In an instant a bloody
          scene ensued; several of Viscarra's men were killed,
          together with a number of mules.  Finally the Indians
          were whipped and tried to get away, but we chased them
          some distance and killed thirty-five.  Our friendly Pueblos
          were delighted, and proceeded to scalp the savages,
          hanging the bloody trophies on the points of their spears.
          That night they indulged in a war-dance which lasted
          until nearly morning.

          We were delighted to see a beautiful sunshiny day after
          the horrors of the preceding night, and continued our march
          without farther interruption, safely arriving at the camp
          on the boundary line, where Major Riley was waiting for us,
          as we supposed; but his time having expired the day before,
          he had left for Fort Leavenworth.  A courier was despatched
          to him, however, as Colonel Viscarra desired to meet the
          American commander and see his troops.  The courier overtook
          Major Riley a short distance away, and he halted for us
          to come up.  Both commands then went into camp, and spent
          several days comparing the discipline of the armies of
          the two nations, and having a general good time.
          Colonel Viscarra greatly admired our small arms, and
          took his leave in a very courteous manner.

          We arrived at Fort Leavenworth late in the season, and
          from there we all scattered.  I received my share of the
          money we had cached on the island, and bade my comrades
          farewell, only a few of whom I have ever seen since.

          When the grass had sufficiently started to insure the
          subsistence of our teams, our wagons were loaded with
          a miscellaneous assortment of merchandise and the first
          trader's caravan of wagons that ever crossed the plains
          left Independence.  Before we had travelled three weeks
          on our journey, we were one evening confronted with the
          novel fact of camping in a country where not a stick of
          wood could be found.  The grass was too green to burn,
          and we were wondering how our fire could be started
          with which to boil our coffee, or cook our bread.  One of
          our number, however, while diligently searching for
          something to utilize, suddenly discovered scattered all
          around him a large quantity of buffalo-chips, and he soon
          had an excellent fire under way, his coffee boiling and
          his bacon sizzling over the glowing coals.

          We arrived in Santa Fe without incident, and as ours
          was the first train of wagons that ever traversed the
          narrow streets of the quaint old town, it was, of course,
          a great curiosity to the natives.

          After a few days' rest, sight-seeing, and purchasing stock
          to replace our own jaded animals, preparations were made
          for the return trip.  All the money we had received for
          our goods was in gold and silver, principally the latter,
          in consequence of which, each member of the company had
          about as much as he could conveniently manage, and,
          as events turned out, much more than he could take care of.

          On the morning of the third day out, when we were not
          looking for the least trouble, our entire herd was
          stampeded, and we were left upon the prairie without
          as much as a single mule to pursue the fast-fleeing
          thieves.  The Mexicans and Indians had come so suddenly
          upon us, and had made such an effective dash, that we
          stood like children who had broken their toys on a stone
          at their feet.  We were so unprepared for such a stampede
          that the thieves did not approach within rifle-shot range
          of the camp to accomplish their object; few of them
          coming within sight, even.

          After the excitement had somewhat subsided and we began
          to realize what had been done, it was decided that while
          some should remain to guard the camp, others must go to
          Santa Fe to see if they could not recover the stock.
          The party that went to Santa Fe had no difficulty in
          recognizing the stolen animals; but when they claimed them,
          they were laughed at by the officials of the place.
          They experienced no difficulty, however, in purchasing
          the same stock for a small sum, which they at once did,
          and hurried back to camp.  By this unpleasant episode
          we learned of the stealth and treachery of the miserable
          people in whose country we were.  We, therefore, took every
          precaution to prevent a repetition of the affair, and
          kept up a vigilant guard night and day.

          Matters progressed very well, and when we had travelled
          some three hundred miles eastwardly, thinking we were
          out of range of any predatory bands, as we had seen no
          sign of any living thing, we relaxed our vigilance somewhat.
          One morning, just before dawn, the whole earth seemed to
          resound with the most horrible noises that ever greeted
          human ears; every blade of grass appeared to re-echo
          the horrid din.  In a few moments every man was at his post,
          rifle in hand, ready for any emergency, and almost
          immediately a large band of Indians made their appearance,
          riding within rifle-shot of the wagons.  A continuous
          battle raged for several hours, the savages discharging
          a shot, then scampering off out of range as fast as
          their ponies could carry them.  Some, more brave than
          others would venture closer to the corral, and one of these
          got the contents of an old-fashioned flint-lock musket
          in his bowels.

          We were careful not all to fire at the same time, and
          several of our party, who were watching the effects of
          our shots declared they could see the dust fly out of
          the robes of the Indians as the bullets struck them.
          It was learned afterward that a number of the savages
          were wounded, and that several had died.  Many were armed
          with bows and arrows only, and in order to do any execution
          were obliged to come near the corral.  The Indians soon
          discovered they were getting the worst of the fight, and,
          having run off all the stock, abandoned the conflict,
          leaving us in possession of the camp, but it can hardly
          be said masters of the situation.

          There we were; thirty-five pioneers upon the wild prairie,
          surrounded by a wily and terribly cruel foe, without
          transportation of any character but our own legs, and with
          five hundred miles of dangerous, trackless waste between
          us and the settlements.  We had an abundance of money,
          but the stuff was absolutely worthless for the present,
          as there was nothing we could buy with it.

          After the last savage had ridden away into the sand hills
          on the opposite side of the river, each one of us had a
          thrilling story to relate of his individual narrow escapes.
          Though none was killed, many received wounds, the scars
          of which they carried through life.  I was wounded six
          times.  Once was in the thigh by an arrow, and once while
          loading my rifle I had my ramrod shot off close to the
          muzzle of my piece, the ball just grazing my shoulder,
          tearing away a small portion of the skin.  Others had
          equally curious experiences, but none were seriously injured.

          After the excitement incident to the battle had subsided,
          the realization of our condition fully dawned upon us.
          When we were first robbed, we were only a short distance
          from Santa Fe, where our money easily procured other stock;
          now there were three hundred miles behind us to that place,
          and the picture was anything but pleasant to contemplate.
          To transport supplies for thirty-five men seemed impossible.
          Our money was now a burden greater than we could bear;
          what was to be done with it?  We would have no use for it
          on our way to the settlements, yet the idea of abandoning
          it seemed hard to accept.  A vigilant guard was kept up
          that day and night, during which time we all remained
          in camp, fearing a renewal of the attack.

          The next morning, as there were no apparent signs of
          the Indians, it was decided to reconnoitre the surrounding
          country in the hope of recovering a portion, at least,
          of our lost stock, which we thought might have become
          separated from the main herd.  Three men were detailed
          to stay in the old camp to guard it while the remainder,
          in squads, scoured the hills and ravines.  Not a horse
          or mule was visible anywhere; the stampede had been
          complete—not even the direction the animals had taken
          could be discovered.

          It was late in the afternoon when I, having left my
          companions to continue the search and returning to camp
          alone, had gotten within a mile of it, that I thought I saw
          a horse feeding upon an adjoining hill.  I at once turned
          my steps in that direction, and had proceeded but a short
          distance when three Indians jumped from their ambush in
          the grass between me and the wagons and ran after me.
          The men in camp had been watching my every movement,
          and as soon as they saw the savages were chasing me,
          they started in pursuit, running at their greatest speed
          to my rescue.

          The savages soon overtook me, and the first one that
          came up tackled me, but in an instant found himself flat
          on the ground.  Before he could get up, the second one
          shared the same fate.  By this time the third one arrived,
          and the two I had thrown grabbed me by the legs so that
          I could no longer handle myself, while the third one had
          a comparatively easy task in pushing me over.  Fortunately,
          my head fell toward the camp and my fast-approaching
          comrades.  The two Indians held my legs to prevent my
          rising, while the third one, who was standing over me,
          drew from his belt a tomahawk, and shrugging his head
          in his blanket, at the same time looking over his shoulder
          at my friends, with a tremendous effort and that peculiar
          grunt of all savages, plunged his hatchet, as he supposed,
          into my head, but instead of scuffling to free myself
          and rise to my feet, I merely turned my head to one side
          and the wicked weapon was buried in the ground, just
          grazing my ear.

          The Indian, seeing that he had missed, raised his hatchet
          and once more shrugging his head in his blanket, and
          turning to look over his other shoulder, attempted to
          strike again, but the blow was evaded by a sudden toss
          of his intended victim's head.  Not satisfied with two
          abortive trials, the third attempt must be made to brain me,
          and repeating the same motions, with a great "Ugh!" he
          seemed to put all his strength into the blow, which, like
          the others, missed, and spent its force in the earth.
          By this time the rescuing party had come near enough to
          prevent the savage from risking another effort, and he then
          addressed the other Indians in Spanish, which I understood,
          saying, "We must run or the Americans will kill us!"
          and loosening his grasp, he scampered off with his
          companions as fast as his legs could take him, hurried on
          by several pieces of lead fired from the old flintlocks
          of the traders.

          By sundown every man had returned to the forlorn camp,
          but not an animal had been recovered.  Then, with tired
          limbs and weary hearts, we took turns at guarding the
          wagons through the long night.  The next morning each man
          shouldered his rifle, and having had his proportion of
          the provisions and cooking utensils assigned him,
          we broke camp, and again turned to take a last look at
          the country behind us, in which we had experienced so much
          misfortune, and started on foot for our long march through
          the dangerous region ahead of us.

          Scarcely had we gotten out of sight of our abandoned camp,
          when one of the party, happening to turn his eyes in that
          direction, saw a large volume of smoke rising in the
          vicinity; then we knew that all of our wagons, and
          everything we had been forced to leave, were burning up.
          This proved that, although we had been unable to discover
          any signs of Indians, they had been lurking around us
          all the time, and this fact warned us to exercise the
          utmost vigilance in guarding our persons.

          Though our burdens were very heavy, the first few days
          were passed without anything to relieve the dreadful
          monotony of our wearisome march; but each succeeding
          twenty-four hours our loads became visibly lighter,
          as our supplies were rapidly diminishing.  It had already
          become apparent that even in the exercise of the greatest
          frugality, our stock of provisions would not last until
          we could reach the settlements, so some of the most expert
          shots were selected to hunt for game; but even in this
          they were not successful, the very birds seeming to have
          abandoned the country in its extreme desolation.

          After eight days' travel, despite our most rigid economy,
          an inventory showed that there was less than one hundred
          pounds of flour left.  Day after day the hunters repeated
          the same old story: "No game!"  For two weeks the allowance
          of flour to each individual was but a spoonful, stirred
          in water and taken three times a day.

          One afternoon, however, fortune smiled upon the weary party;
          one of the hunters returned to camp with a turkey he had
          killed.  It was soon broiling over a fire which willing
          hands had kindled, and our drooping spirits were revived
          for a while.  While the turkey was cooking, a crow flew
          over the camp, and one of the company, seizing a gun,
          despatched it, and in a few moments it, too, was sizzling
          along with the other bird.

          Now, in addition to the pangs of hunger, a scarcity of
          water confronted us, and one day we were compelled to
          resort to a buffalo-wallow and suck the moist clay where
          the huge animals had been stamping in the mud.  We were
          much reduced in strength, yet each day added new
          difficulties to our forlorn situation.  Some became so weak
          and exhausted that it was with the greatest effort they
          could travel at all.  To divide the company and leave
          the more feeble behind to starve, or to be murdered by
          the merciless savages, was not considered for a moment;
          but one alternative remained, and that was speedily accepted.
          As soon as a convenient camping-ground could be found,
          a halt was made, shelter established, and things made as
          comfortable as possible.  Here the weakest remained to rest,
          while some of the strongest scoured the surrounding country
          in search of game.  During this temporary halt the hunters
          were more successful than before, having killed two
          buffaloes, besides some smaller animals, in one morning.
          Again the natural dry fuel of the prairies was called
          into requisition, and juicy steak was once more broiling
          over the fire.

          With an abundance to eat and a few days' rest, the whole
          company revived and were enabled to renew their march
          homeward.  We were now in the buffalo range, and every day
          the hunters were fortunate enough to kill one or more of
          the immense animals, thus keeping our larder in excellent
          condition, and starvation averted.

          Doubting whether our good fortune in relation to food
          would continue for the remainder of our march, and our
          money becoming very cumbersome, it was decided by a majority
          that at the first good place we came to we would bury it
          and risk its being stolen by our enemies.  When not more
          than half of our journey had been accomplished, we came
          to an island in the river to which we waded, and there,
          between two large trees, dug a hole and deposited our
          treasure.  We replaced the sod over the spot, taking the
          utmost precaution to conceal every sign of having disturbed
          the ground.  Though no Indians had been seen for several
          days, a sharp lookout was kept in all directions for fear
          that some lurking savage might have been watching our
          movements.  This task finished, with much lighter burdens,
          but more anxious than ever, we again took up our march
          eastwardly, and, thus relieved, were able to carry a
          greater quantity of provisions.

          Having journeyed until we supposed we were within a few
          miles of the settlements, some of our number, scarcely able
          to travel, thought the best course to pursue would be to
          divide the company; one portion to press on, the weaker
          ones to proceed by easier stages, and when the advance
          arrived at the settlements, they were to send back a relief
          for those plodding on wearily behind them.  Soon a few
          who were stronger than the others reached Independence,
          Missouri, and immediately sent a party with horses to
          bring in their comrades; so, at last, all got safely to
          their homes.

          From the tops of the hills, we saw far away, in almost
          every direction, mile after mile of prairie, blackened
          with buffalo.  One morning, when our march was along the
          natural meadows by the river, we passed through them for
          miles; they opened in front and closed continually in
          the rear, preserving a distance scarcely over three hundred
          paces.  On one occasion, a bull had approached within
          two hundred yards without seeing us, until he ascended
          the river bank; he stood a moment shaking his head, and
          then made a charge at the column.  Several officers
          stepped out and fired at him, two or three dogs also rushed
          to meet him; but right onward he came, snorting blood
          from mouth and nostril at every leap, and, with the speed
          of a horse and the momentum of a locomotive, dashed
          between two wagons, which the frightened oxen nearly upset;
          the dogs were at his heels and soon he came to bay, and,
          with tail erect, kicked violently for a moment, and then
          sank in death—the muscles retaining the dying rigidity
          of tension.