48 CROSSING A PRAIRIE.

prairies which in that portion of the United States
vary the appearance of the country. The weather
was fine; all around me was fresh and blooming. My
knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had for
baggage or for company. But, although well moc-
cassined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the
briliancy of the flowers and the gambols of the
fawns around their dams, to all appearance as
thoughtless of danger as I felt myself.

“My march was of long duration. I saw the sun
sinking beneath the horizon long before I could
perceive any appearance of woodland, and nothing
in the shape of man had I met that day. The
track which I followed was only an old Indian
trace, and as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I
felt some desire to reach at least a copse in which
I might lie down to rest. Shortly after, a firelight
attracted my eye. I moved towards it, full of con-
fidence that it proceeded from the camp of some
wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered
by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small
log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and re-
passed between it and me, as if busily engaged in
household arrangements. I reached the spot, and,
presenting myself at the door, asked the tall ficure,
which proved to be a w oman, 1f I might take shel-
ter under her roof for the night, Ter yoieo was
gruff, and her attire negligently thrown about her.