I went out.The morning was chill, damp, and dark; and the whole camp seemed asleep.The Hail-Storm sat on horseback before the lodge, and my mare Pauline and the mule which Raymond rode were picketed near it.We saddled and made our other arrangements for the journey, but before these were completed the camp began to stir, and the lodge-coverings fluttered and rustled as the squaws pulled them down in preparation for departure.Just as the light began to appear we left the ground, passing up through a narrow opening among the rocks which led eastward out of the meadow.Gaining the top of this passage, I turned round and sat looking back upon the camp, dimly visible in the gray light of the morning.All was alive with the bustle of preparation.I turned away, half unwilling to take a final leave of my savage associates.We turned to the right, passing among the rocks and pine trees so dark that for a while we could scarcely see our way.The country in front was wild and broken, half hill, half plain, partly open and partly covered with woods of pine and oak.Barriers of lofty mountains encompassed it; the woods were fresh and cool in the early morning; the peaks of the mountains were wreathed with mist, and sluggish vapors were entangled among the forests upon their sides.At length the black pinnacle of the tallest mountain was tipped with gold by the rising sun.About that time the Hail-Storm, who rode in front gave a low exclamation.Some large animal leaped up from among the bushes, and an elk, as Ithought, his horns thrown back over his neck, darted past us across the open space, and bounded like a mad thing away among the adjoining pines.Raymond was soon out of his saddle, but before he could fire, the animal was full two hundred yards distant.The ball struck its mark, though much too low for mortal effect.The elk, however, wheeled in its flight, and ran at full speed among the trees, nearly at right angles to his former course.I fired and broke his shoulder; still he moved on, limping down into the neighboring woody hollow, whither the young Indian followed and killed him.When we reached the spot we discovered him to be no elk, but a black-tailed deer, an animal nearly twice the size of the common deer, and quite unknown to the East.We began to cut him up; the reports of the rifles had reached the ears of the Indians, and before our task was finished several of them came to the spot.Leaving the hide of the deer to the Hail-Storm, we hung as much of the meat as we wanted behind our saddles, left the rest to the Indians, and resumed our journey.Meanwhile the village was on its way, and had gone so far that to get in advance of it was impossible.Therefore we directed our course so as to strike its line of march at the nearest point.
In a short time, through the dark trunks of the pines, we could see the figures of the Indians as they passed.Once more we were among them.They were moving with even more than their usual precipitation, crowded close together in a narrow pass between rocks and old pine trees.We were on the eastern descent of the mountain, and soon came to a rough and difficult defile, leading down a very steep declivity.The whole swarm poured down together, filling the rocky passageway like some turbulent mountain stream.The mountains before us were on fire, and had been so for weeks.The view in front was obscured by a vast dim sea of smoke and vapor, while on either hand the tall cliffs, bearing aloft their crest of pines, thrust their heads boldly through it, and the sharp pinnacles and broken ridges of the mountains beyond them were faintly traceable as through a veil.The scene in itself was most grand and imposing, but with the savage multitude, the armed warriors, the naked children, the gayly appareled girls, pouring impetuously down the heights, it would have formed a noble subject for a painter, and only the pen of a Scott could have done it justice in description.
We passed over a burnt tract where the ground was hot beneath the horses' feet, and between the blazing sides of two mountains.Before long we had descended to a softer region, where we found a succession of little valleys watered by a stream, along the borders of which grew abundance of wild gooseberries and currants, and the children and many of the men straggled from the line of march to gather them as we passed along.Descending still farther, the view changed rapidly.The burning mountains were behind us, and through the open valleys in front we could see the ocean-like prairie, stretching beyond the sight.After passing through a line of trees that skirted the brook, the Indians filed out upon the plains.I was thirsty and knelt down by the little stream to drink.As I mounted again I very carelessly left my rifle among the grass, and my thoughts being otherwise absorbed, I rode for some distance before discovering its absence.As the reader may conceive, I lost no time in turning about and galloping back in search of it.Passing the line of Indians, Iwatched every warrior as he rode by me at a canter, and at length discovered my rifle in the hands of one of them, who, on my approaching to claim it, immediately gave it up.Having no other means of acknowledging the obligation, I took off one of my spurs and gave it to him.He was greatly delighted, looking upon it as a distinguished mark of favor, and immediately held out his foot for me to buckle it on.As soon as I had done so, he struck it with force into the side of his horse, who gave a violent leap.The Indian laughed and spurred harder than before.At this the horse shot away like an arrow, amid the screams and laughter of the squaws, and the ejaculations of the men, who exclaimed: "Washtay!--Good!" at the potent effect of my gift.The Indian had no saddle, and nothing in place of a bridle except a leather string tied round the horse's jaw.
