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 FRAIRIE FLOWER; 
 
 
 
 DVENTI1RE8 IN THE PAH WE 
 
 BY..} ON BENNETT. 
 
 THE BANDITS OF THE OSAGi 
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THE 
 
 PRAIRIE FLOWER; 
 
 OR, 
 
 
 ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 BY EMERSON BENNETT. ! <e 2 2 - 
 
 // 
 
 OF "THE FOREST HOSE," "THE BANDITS OF THE OSAGE," "THI: TBAITOB," 
 " OLIVER GOLDFINCH," " KATE CLARENDON," ETC., ETC. 
 
 But O, the blooming prairie, 
 
 Here .re God's floral bower*, 
 Of all that ho hath made on earth 
 
 The loveliest. * * * 
 
 This is the Almighty's garden, 
 
 And the mountain?, stars, and se*, 
 Are nought compared in beauty, 
 
 With God's garden prairie free. 
 
 NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 PUBLISHED BY U. P. J'AMES, 
 
 No. 177 RAC,<E STREET. 
 
Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1850, 
 
 BY J. A. & U. P. JAMES, 
 n tne Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the District, of Ohio. 
 
Bancroft Library 
 f, =1 
 
 DEDICATION, 
 
 1 9 
 
 frank i\ a j a r , JH. SI., 
 
 Of 
 
 COVINGTON, KENTUCKY. 
 
 DEAR SIR : In selecting your name to grace this page, I feel 1 am only 
 doing an act appropriate to the esteem in which I hold and the friendship 
 that I feel for you. And to me this inscription seems the more appropriate, 
 that our acquaintance was formed in the sick-room, and at the bedside of 
 one near and dear to me, while I was engaged in writing the closing 
 scenes >f the pages which follow. My child, an only child, was lying at 
 the point of death ; and you were called, in your professional capacity, to 
 visit him. The kindly interest you manifested in his welfare the close 
 and almost constant attendance you gave him the high professional 
 ukill you displayed in his behalf and last, though not least, your success, 
 under God, in snatching him, as it were, from the very jaws of death 
 led me to admire your talents as a physician, and, together with one 
 who had t-een, like myself, nearly prostrated with affliction, at the thought 
 that our <nily child must go from us, to regard you as truly a " friend 
 in need." The friendship thus begun, and since continued, I trust will be 
 lasting ; wid as a remembrancer of the many pleasant hours we have spent 
 together, rrchangip^ ideas and traveling over the bright and fertile fields 
 of imayi nation, -, i .-ably inscribe this work to you. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 As almost every one who takes any 
 mferest in a book, has eome desire or 
 curiosity to know how or why it came to 
 be written, and as there are some things 
 of which he desires to speak particularly, 
 the author, compiler, or editor of Prairie 
 Flower, (whichever you please, reader,) 
 has, after due consideration, decided on 
 giving the information alluded to, in an 
 introductory note to the present volume. 
 While engaged in writing for the press, a 
 tall, dark-visaged, keen -eyed individual 
 entered his sanctum, early one morning, 
 bearing in his hand a bundle of no inferior 
 size. Having stared around the apartment, 
 as if to assure himself there was no mistake, 
 he coolly took the only remaining seat, 
 wben the following conversation occurred. 
 
 STRANGER. Mr. Scribblepen, I pre 
 sume ? 
 
 AUTHOR. My name, sir ! 
 
 STRANGER. He-e-m ! (A pause.) Write 
 novels, presume, Mr. Scribblepen ? 
 
 AUTHOR. When I have nothing better 
 to do. 
 
 STRANGER. (After a little reflection.) 
 Found them on fact, eh ? 
 
 AUTHOR. Sometimes, and sometimes 
 draw rather freely on the imagination, as 
 the case may be. 
 
 STRANGER. How would you like the 
 idea of writing one THAT SHOULD CONTAIN 
 
 NOTHING BUT FACT? 
 
 AUTHOR. (Becoming interested and 
 laying down his pen.) Have no objections, 
 provided there is fact enough, and of a 
 nature sufficiently exciting to make the 
 story interesting to the general reader. 
 
 STRANGER. (Frniliu.cr complacently, and 
 tapping his burdle.) Got the documents 
 here, and no mistake. Every word true, 
 f pledge you my honor. Promise to work 
 
 them up faithfully, and they arc at your 
 service. 
 
 AUTHOR. (In doubt.) But how am I 
 to know they contain only facts ? 
 
 STRANGER. You have my word, sir ! 
 
 AUTHOR. Did you write them ? Do 
 they comprise a journal of your own 
 adventures ? 
 
 STRANGER. (A little testily.) No mat 
 ter about either ! They contain nothing 
 but facts, and that is enough for any rea 
 sonable man to know. 
 
 AUTHOR. But how am I to know this ? 
 You must remember you are a stranger 
 to me, sir ! 
 
 STRANGER. (Coloring, and carelessly 
 placing his hand upon the breech of a pis 
 tol, barely seen protruding from beneath 
 his waistcoat. ) I allow no one to doubt 
 my word, sir ! 
 
 AUTHOR. (A little nervous, and not 
 caring to doubt such powerful testimony.) 
 
 ! ah ! I see it is all right, of course. 
 STRANGER. (Again smiling pleasantly.) 
 
 So you will undertake the job, Mr. Scrib 
 blepen, and give facts in everything but 
 the most important names ? 
 
 AUTHOR. I will try. 
 
 STRANGER. (Placing the package upon 
 the table and rising as if to go.) You can 
 have them, then. All I ask is that you 
 will be a faithful chronicler. The names 
 
 1 wish changed, you will find marked. I 
 have a desire to see the whole in print, 
 and you may take all the profit and what 
 ever credit you please, so you keep fact in 
 view. The incidents are romantic, and 
 sufficiently exciting for your purpose, with 
 out embellishment. I shall keep an eye 
 upon the publication, and you may sea 
 me again, or you may not : I make no 
 promises. Good morning, sir ! 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 AUTHOR. (Rising to bow him out.) 
 But your name, stranger, if you please ? 
 
 STRANGER. (Hesitating.) I am called 
 the Wanderer. Good morning, Mr. Scrib- 
 blepen ! 
 
 AUTHOR. Good morning Mr. "Wan 
 derer ! (Returns to the mysterious pack 
 age, opens, examines it, begins to read, 
 gets interested, and goes to bed the night 
 following minus dinner and supper.) 
 
 Having shown you how he became pos 
 sessed of the facts of the story, the author 
 would say a few words more as regards 
 the characters set forth in the following 
 pages, he would state, that, being all real, 
 some represent a class, and some an indi 
 vidual only. Prairie Flower is of the 
 latter, and is drawn from real life. That 
 the proceedings of herself and tribe may 
 appear mysterious, and, to some, at first 
 thought, (her locality and everything con- 1 
 sidered) out of place, the author does not ! 
 doubt ; but he believes that no one who 
 is conversant with Indian history, and| 
 
 especially with that relating to the Norft* 
 western Tribes and the Moravian Missions, 
 during the early settlement of Ohio, will 
 find in this character or her tribe anything 
 that may be termed overstrained or unnat 
 ural. That she is a marked character, 
 distinct and peculiar, and liable to be mis 
 construed by those who do not take every 
 thing into consideration, but allow a first 
 fancy to have full sway he admits ; but 
 at the same time would desire such to 
 withhold an expression of opinion, until 
 they shall have read to the end, when 
 he trusts they will find the explanation 
 satisfactory. 
 
 With these remarks, and the simple 
 statement that the reader may look upon 
 the scenes described as real, the author 
 would take his respectful leave for the 
 present, hoping the reader may find, if 
 nothing else of interest, information re 
 garding life in the Far West, sufficient to 
 repay a perusal. 
 
 CINCINNATI. 
 
 ADDITIONAL. 
 
 The foregoing was afhxed to the first edition of " PRAIRIE FLOWER," which 
 appeared in 1849, and which, though a large one, \va exhausted in a little over three 
 months. And the Author would here take occasion to say, that the success tin's work 
 has met with from the reading community the high mark of .popular favor which ht.s 
 been bestowed upon it by an intelligent and discriminating public together with th 
 friendly notices it has received from the Press, and the eulogistic remarks of correi 
 pendents, both known and unknown to the Author, from all parts of the country hav 
 been the green OASES in the desert of life of one who toils only to please, and who 
 herewith returns his humble thanks to each and all, coupled with his regrets th-at the 
 work in question is not more worthy of the eulogiums that greeted its first appearance. 
 
 To those unknown friends at a distance who have made kindly inquiries by letter, 
 concerning the strange individual from whom the author obtained the manuscripts 
 referred to in the foregoing note as also in reference to the present \vhereabouta 
 of ' : Prairie Flower" herself, and others but which a press of business has prevented 
 him from answering as he otherwise would have done the author takes '.reason to 
 say, to one and all, that as respects the " Wanderer," having never heard from him 
 eince, he congratulates himself on having given no offense, in working up the material! 
 he furnished ; and that, with regard to Prairie Flower and the rest, he knows nothing 
 additional to the facts recorded in the following pages. 
 
 ClKCIKNATI, O.. 
 
THE 
 
 PRAIRIE FLOWER 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE PROPOSITION THE RESOLVE HO: FOR OREGON. 
 
 " Ho ! for Oregon what say you, 
 Frank Leighton ? " exclaimed my college 
 chum, Charles Huntly, rushing into ro^ 
 room, nearly out of breath, where I \vas 
 cosily seated, with my sheep-skin diploma 
 spread before me, engaged in tracing out 
 my legal right to subjoin the magical ini 
 tials, M. D., to my name. " Come, what 
 say you, Frank?" queried my companion 
 again, as I looked up in some surprise. 
 
 "Why, Charley," returned I, "what 
 new notion has taken possession of your 
 brain ? " 
 
 " Oregon and adventure," he quickly 
 rejoined, with flashing eyes. "You know, 
 Frank, our collegiate course is finished, 
 and we must do something for the remain 
 der of our lives. Now, for myself, I can 
 not bear the idea of settling down to the 
 dry practice of law, without at least hav 
 ing seen something more of the world ; 
 and by all means I would not settle here 
 in the east, where lawyers are as plenty 
 as stubble in a harvested rye-field, and, for 
 the matter of that, to make the compari 
 son good, just about as much needed. You 
 know, Frank, we have often planned to 
 gether, where we would go, and what we 
 would do, when we should get our liber 
 ty ; and now the western fever has seized 
 me, and I am ready to exclaim ho ! for 
 Oregon." 
 
 "But, Charley," returned I, "consider; 
 here we are now, snug in old Cambridge, 
 nd Oregon is thousands of miles away. 
 It ia much easier saying, ho ! for Oregon, 
 
 than it is getting to Oregon. Besides, 
 what should we do when there ? " 
 
 " Hunt, fish, trap, shoot Indians, any 
 thing, everything," cried my comrade, en 
 thusiastically, "so we manage to escape 
 ennui, and have plenty of adventure ! " 
 
 "I must confess," said I, "that I like 
 the idea wonderfully well but " 
 
 " But me no buts ! " exclaimed Huntley; 
 " you will like it I shall like it and we 
 will both have such glorious times. Col 
 lege law pah ! I am heartily sick of 
 hearing of either, and long for those mag 
 nificent wilds, where a man may throw 
 about his arms without fear of punching 
 anybody in the ribs. So come, Frank, 
 set about matters settle up your affairs, 
 if you have any, either in money or love 
 and then follow me. Faith! man, I'll 
 guide you to a real El Dorado, and no 
 mistake." 
 
 The words of my companion produced 
 a strong effect upon my naturally restless 
 mind. Nothing that he could have pro 
 posed, at that moment, would have suited 
 my inclination better than such a journey 
 of adventure ; and no companion would I 
 have chosen in preference to himself. We 
 had been playmates together in infancy, 
 we had studied together in youth, and, for 
 the last four years, had been chums at old 
 Harvard University he studying law and 
 I medicii '" -, by the strict discipline 
 of the U .' ; rsity, we were not entitled to 
 occupy apartment, on account 
 
 of our d . udies ; but the influence 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 of our connections made us privileged per 
 sonages ; and the professors winked at 
 many things in us, that in others would 
 have been grave offences. The substance 
 of the matter is, we began our studies to 
 gether, roomed together, and each com 
 pleted his course at the same time. 
 
 From childhood up, I had loved Charles 
 Huntly or Charley, as I more familiarly 
 termed him as a brother ; and this frater 
 nal feeling I knew he as warmly returned. 
 We walked together, played together, sung 
 together ever took each other's part on 
 all occasions, whether right or wrong 
 and, in fact, for our close intimacy, were 
 dubbed the Siamese twins. We were 
 both only sons of wealthy parents. My 
 father was a wholesale merchant in Bos 
 ton ; so was his; the only difference in 
 their occupations being, that the former 
 dealt in dry goods, the latter in groceries. 
 Now there was another strong tie between 
 young Huntly and myself. He had an 
 only sister a sweet, modest, affectionate 
 creature, some three years his junior 
 whom I loved with all the ardent passion 
 of a fiery, impetuous youth ; and was, I 
 fancied, loved in return. Be this as it 
 might, my passion for his sister he knew 
 and encouraged; and this, as I said be 
 fore, only added a stronger link to the 
 chain of our friendship. 
 
 In age, Charles Huntly was my senior 
 by nearly a year, and was now a little 
 turned of twenty-one. In stature we 
 were much alike both being about five 
 feet and ten inches, with regular propor 
 tions. In complexion we differed mate 
 rially he being light, with light curly 
 hair ; and I dark, with hair black and 
 straight. In personal appearance my 
 friend was remarkably handsome and pre 
 possessing. His beauty did not consist in 
 the mere perfection of features though 
 these were, in general, very fine so much 
 as in the play and expression of the whole 
 countenance, where every thought seemed 
 to make an instant and passing impres 
 sion. His forehead was high and broad, 
 and stamped with intellect, beneath which 
 shone a bright, blue eye, that could spar 
 kle with mirth, or flash with anger, as the 
 case might be. The contour of his face 
 was a something between the Grecian and 
 Anglo-Saxon, though the nose was deci 
 
 dedly of the former cast. His skin fine, 
 smooth, and almost beardless gave him 
 an appearance so boyish that I was often 
 mistaken for his senior by many years 
 a matter which generally irritated him not 
 a little, as he hat! a strong repugnance to 
 being thought effeminate. His tempera 
 ment was strongly nervous. At heart h 
 was truly noble and generous ; but this, by 
 those who did not know him intimately, 
 was very frequently overlooked in his hot 
 and hasty temper. None was more ready 
 to resent an insult, or redress a wrong ; 
 and as he was very tenacious of his own 
 honor, so was he of another's. If you 
 insulted him, you must take the conse 
 quences, and they would not be slow to 
 follow, unless ample apology were made, 
 in which case his hand was ever open for 
 friendship. If he did you a wrong, and 
 became convinced of it, he could not rest 
 until he had sued for pardon. He was 
 wild at times in his notions, headstrong, 
 hot-brained, and, in general, a great en 
 thusiast. Whenever anything new took 
 possession of his mind, it was the great 
 all-in-all for the time being ; but was very 
 apt to pass away soon, and be supplied by 
 something equally as great, and equally as 
 evanescent. 
 
 Such, as I have just enumerated, were 
 the striking points in the appearance and 
 character of Charles Huntly; and though 
 in the latter we were much alike, yet we 
 seldom quarreled, and then only to make 
 it up the next time we met. 
 
 Now, as Charles remarked, in language 
 which I have already quoted, we had of 
 ten, during our leisure moments, laid out 
 plans of adventure for the future, when 
 our collegiate course should be finished. 
 But the plan of to-day had been alway 
 superseded by the one of to-morrow, so 
 that, unless we resolved on something 
 steadily, it was more than probable that 
 the whole would result, simply, in specu 
 lating visions of the brain. The last pro 
 position was, of course, the one which 
 opens this chapter ; and which had, per 
 haps, less weight with me at the moment, 
 from my remembering the failure of all the 
 others. Still, there was one thing in it* 
 its favor which none of the others had Lad. 
 We had completed our studies now, and 
 were at liberty, if we resolved on it, to 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 9 
 
 carry our project into immediate execu 
 tion, before it should become trite ; and be 
 sides, nothing before had seemed so fully 
 to meet the views of both in every par 
 ticular. Adventure was our delight in 
 every shape we could find it ; as several 
 powerful admonitions and premonitory 
 warnings from our tutors, for various little 
 
 Ee-jcadilloes such as tying a calf to the 
 e!l rope, playing the ghost to old women, 
 upsetting beehives, and robbing hen 
 roosts might well attest. But there was, 
 notwithstanding, a darwback, which made 
 me hesitate when my friend interrupted 
 me. He was of age, but I was not ; and 
 my father might not be willing to give his 
 consent, without which I certainly would 
 not venture. Another : I loved Lilian 
 Huntly ; and should I go and leave her, 
 she might get married in my absence a 
 result which I felt was not to be endured. 
 
 While I sat, with my head upon my 
 hand, buried in thought, rapidly running 
 these things over in my mind, my compan 
 ion stood watching me, as if to gather my 
 decision from the expression of my coun 
 tenance. 
 
 "Well, Frank," said' he, at length, "it 
 seems you have become very studious all 
 a once. How long is it going to take you 
 to decide on accepting so glorious a propo 
 sition?" 
 
 " How long since the idea of it entered 
 your head ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Ten, fifteen, ay, (looking at his watch) 
 twenty minutes. I was down for the pur 
 pose of getting a hack, to take us over to 
 the city, when the thought came across me 
 like a flash of lightning, and I turned and 
 (lurried back, to " 
 
 " See me before you altered your mind," 
 interrupted I, completing his sentence. 
 
 " Confound you, Frank wait till I have 
 done, I hurried back, I say, to let you 
 ahare the bright prospect with me." 
 
 " Humph ! prospect indeed ! " said I, 
 with a laugh, merely for the purpose of 
 annoying him ; for I saw, by his whole 
 demeanoi, that he was decidedly in ear 
 nest. "And a prospect it will ever remain, 
 I am thinking, a long way ahead. You 
 are joking, Charley, are you not ? " 
 
 "No. by all the bright cupids of fairy 
 
 realms, I swear to you, Frank, my dear 
 fellow, I never was so serious about any 
 thing in my life, since the time when I 
 played the ghostly tin-pan drummer to the 
 edification of old Aunt Nabby." 
 
 "But allowing you are in earnest, you 
 have overlooked two important points in 
 asking me to accompany you." 
 
 " Ha ! what are they ? " 
 
 " My father, and Lilian." 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut, Frank don't be a fool ! " 
 
 " That is exactly what I am trying to 
 guard against, Charley. Shall I assist you 
 a little ? " 
 
 " Pshaw! stuff! nonsence ! what have 
 your father and my sister to do with it ? " 
 
 " Why, the first might refuse his con 
 sent to my going : and the last might con 
 sent to have my place filled in my absence." 
 
 " Well," answered Charley, " as to your 
 father, I will pledge you my word that he 
 will give his consent ; and for Lilian, that 
 she will await your return, if it be six 
 years hence." 
 
 " You will ?" cried I, jumping up so 
 suddenly as to upset the table on to the 
 toes of my companion ; "you will pledge 
 your word to this, Charley ? " 
 
 " A plague on that table and your great 
 haste ! " muttered Huntly, hobbling about 
 the room, and holding his bruised foot in 
 his hand. " Yes, I will pledge you my 
 honor to both, if you will say the word." 
 
 " Enough ! here is my hand on it, " I 
 cried. 
 
 Down went the bruised foot, and the 
 next moment I felt the bones of my fingers 
 crack under the powerful pressure of those 
 of my enthusiastic friend. 
 
 " Now, Frank," he almost shouted, ca 
 pering about the room for joy, "you are 
 pledged beyond a back-out." 
 
 " On condition you make your pledge 
 good." 
 
 " I will do it or die." 
 
 " Then enough is said." 
 
 "Hurrah, then, for a hack!" cried Charles 
 Huntly, darting out of my room and down 
 a flight of stairs, to the imminent danger 
 of his neck : " Hurrah for a hack ! and hoi 
 for the Rocky Mountains, Oregon, and the 
 far, Far West ! " 
 
10 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLO.WER; OR 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 -SEPARA- 
 
 PREPA RATION LOVE JEALOUSY- 
 
 TION AND DEPARTURE. 
 
 IT was a clear, starlight evening in the 
 mon li of May, that I found myself slow 
 ly Healing tlie tine mansion of Benjamin! 
 Huiuly, to behold my sweet and dearly | 
 loved Lilian, perhaps for the last time I 
 felt strangely, as 1 had never felt before. 
 A week had elapsed, and all had been ar 
 ranged for my departure, at an early hour 
 on the following morning. The consent 
 $f my parents had been reluctantly yield 
 ed to the powerful eloquence anil soft per 
 suasion of my enthusiastic friend. Al- 
 readv had mv trunks been packed, and my 
 ptirsr title. I, for the long separation. Al 
 ready had 1 listened to the parental advice 
 of my failier, and seen the tears of sorrow 
 in my beloved mother's eyes. The strug 
 gle of consent, but not of parting, was 
 now over , and 1 was wending my way to ' 
 the house of my friend, to take leave of 
 one, at the thought of whom my heart ever 
 beat rapidly. A.S I said before, I felt 
 strangely. I was about to bid adieu a 
 Long, perchance a last, adieu to all the 
 bright scenes of my childhood to friends 
 near and dear to me to father and mother 
 and, last, though not least, to tht idol of 
 my purer thoughts. 
 
 It is hard, very hard, to leave the scenes 
 of our youth for the first time to venture 
 forth, we scarce know whither, like a fea 
 ther borne unconsciously upon the strong 
 est current of air. However much we may 
 plan in secret however strikingly we may 
 draw the pictures of adventure in the 
 rosy colors of anticipation however great 
 may be our jnclination to go and see the 
 world for ourselves ; yet when the time of 
 separation comes when we are about to 
 cut the cord that binds us to all we have 
 ever seen and loved the heart grows sad, 
 and soft, and we feel as if staggering un 
 der the weight of some impending ca- 
 Jamity. 
 
 Thus I felt, and a great deal more which 
 I cannot describe, as I paused for a mo 
 ment upon the steps of Lilian Huntly's 
 dwelling, to compose my agitated nerves 
 and appear calm and collected. Why was 
 
 it that my agitation shoald now only in 
 crease ? Why could I never appear before 
 her as before any other I had ever seen 
 cool and collected ? Why must my heart 
 always flutter so, and my usually free- 
 coming words stick chokingly in my throat, 
 or congeal upon my lips ? Was it because 
 I loved her ? I would have given half mv 
 expected inheritance to talk to her freely 
 as I could to others. I had often tried it, 
 but in vain. I always made a fool of my 
 self, and I knew it. 1 fancied Lilian knew 
 it too ; and this only added to my embar 
 rassment. My heart and my self-esteem 
 whispered me I was loved ; but my bash 
 ful fears told me the contrary. I had never 
 tested her, and now I was about to do it. 
 If she loved me, she would plainly show it 
 the moment of separation. I was shortly 
 to be made happy or miserable, or miser 
 ably happy ; for if she loved me, I should 
 be happy in knowing it unhappy in the 
 thought of a long parting. 1 trembled as 
 I thought, until my knees smote each other 
 as did Belshazzer's. 
 
 At last, desperate effort, I assumed a 
 courage I did not possess, and, ascending 
 the steps, rang the bell. In another min 
 ute I was ushered into the parlor, and the 
 servant who admitted me was already gone 
 to summon my fair judge. 1 gazed around 
 upon the beautiful paintings which adorn 
 ed the walls, but without seeing them. I 
 felt like a guilty culprit about to hear hi$ 
 doom. Could money, at that moment, 
 have purchased me easy assurance,! would 
 have had it at any price. 1 remained in 
 suspense some five minutes, when the dool 
 opened and Lilian entered entered like a 
 fairy being into her golden realms. 
 
 Heavens ! how lovely! I had never seen 
 her, or ought else, look so eiichantingly 
 sweet before. In complexion and fea 
 tures, Lilian strongly resembled her bro 
 ther save that everything was more soft, 
 more effeminate, more exquisitely beauti 
 ful, Her skin was fair, and clear as ala 
 baster, with a slight tint of crimson upon 
 each cheek. Her features were all of the 
 finest mold. Her large, soft, dear blue 
 eyes, were rendered extremely fascinating 
 by long, drooping, delicately fringed lashes. 
 In their depths was a soul of Undei 
 thought, feeling, and love ; and, most joy 
 ful discovery ! they were now s\\ imniing in 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 11 
 
 tears. She loved me then, and had been 
 weeping at the th night of my leaving her ! 
 The expression of her sweet countenance, 
 too, was sad. Her' plump, cherry lips 
 were just parted, as if about to speak, dis 
 playing two rows of beautiful pearls. Her 
 light hair was arranged a la mode, and a 
 bright, glowing diamond sparkled on her 
 forehead. Her exquisitely faultless form 
 was arrayed in the emblem of purity, a 
 snow-white dress, which almost made me 
 fancv her an etherial, a spiritual visitor. 
 
 She advanced with a timid step, and 
 held out her snowy, dimple hand. She 
 tried to speak, but language failed her. I 
 tried to do the same, with a like success. 
 I made a step toward her, and her hand 
 touched mine Heavens ! what emotions 
 thrilled me ! I was beside myself with 
 the deepest joy I had ever felt. I forgot 
 formality, caution, prudence, everything 
 and before I knew what I was about, or 
 how I did it, my lips were pressed to hers. 
 The pressure was returned, one moment, 
 and then she sprang away, blushing and 
 confused. Think what you may of it, 
 reader, that was one of the happiest mo 
 ments of my life. 
 
 1 was the tirst to break the silence, and 
 [ trembled as I did so. 
 
 " i have come, Miss Lilian," I stam 
 mered, " to to " 
 
 " I understand, "she murmured, faintly, 
 sinking into a seat : while slowly the tears, 
 that could not be suppressed, stole down 
 her nuw pale cheeks : " I understand : I 
 am about to lose a a brother, and a 
 a friend." 
 
 Friend ! heavens ! how cold that word ! 
 It should be clipped by every lexicograph 
 er ami sent out of existence! Friend! Why 
 it chilled my blood, and. for the moment 
 made mt- an enemy of the language which 
 harbored it. Was there, then, no olher 
 term one a little more ende ring? and 
 if so, why did she select one so cold ! 
 Perhaps she meant it ! Perhaps her grief 
 was only for the loss of a brother, and if 
 I iiiiist use the hateful term a friend! In 
 that case she could not love me. I had 
 ona more made a fool of myself. But I 
 would not do so again. I would let her 
 see that 1 could be a* indifferent as her- 
 belf. She should not have cause to boast 
 TO after times perhaps when wedded to 
 
 another how much I loved her, and how 
 she pitied me. No ! I Would be cold as 
 marble ay ! as a Lapland iceberg. These 
 thoughts went through my mind rapidly ; 
 and scarcely a minute's pause succeeded, 
 before I said, coolly enough, heaven 
 knows : 
 
 " Yes, Miss Huntly, 1 have come to bid 
 you a last farewell, and have but a few 
 spare moments to do it in." 
 
 I looked at her indifferently as 1 sjr ke, 
 
 and oh ! what would I not have given to 
 
 i recall those words ! Her soft, blue eyes 
 
 ! turned full upon me, with a mingled ex- 
 
 \ pression of surprise and reproach, which 
 
 i shall never forget. Her cheeks grew 
 
 j more deadly pale than ever ; and her lips 
 
 quivered, as she sighed, almost inaudibly, 
 
 my name. There was nc withstanding 
 
 this ; and on the impulse of the moment, 
 
 1 threw myself at her feet, and exclaimed : 
 
 " 0, Lilian ! sweet Lilian ! I have 
 wrong-.-d TUU. You love me, Lilian you 
 iove me ! " 
 
 She did not answer, but her look spoke 
 volumes, as her eyes modestly sought the 
 ground, and a slight flush beautifully tint 
 ed her cheeks. 1 seized her hand raptur 
 ously, and pressed it warmly. She did 
 not return the pressure, neither did she 
 seek to avoid it. I was in raptures, and I 
 lelt a soul of eloquence on my lips. | 
 
 " 1 wronged you, Lilian," I said, pas 
 sionately. "I thought you were cold- 
 hearted, because you called me friend. 
 But I was mistaken, I see ! I was expect 
 ing a warmer term ; but I had forgotten it 
 was not your place to use it tirst. Lilian, 
 dear Lilian permit me so to call you I 
 am about to go far away ; and God only 
 knows when, if ever, 1 shall return. Par 
 don me, then, if I improve the present mo 
 ments, and speak the sentiments of my 
 heart. 1 have known you. Lilian, from a 
 child; but I have known you only to love 
 and adore. You hav, been the ideal of 
 my boyish dreams, either sleeping or wak 
 ing. The perfection ol divine beauty, 
 wii.li me, has had but one standard youi 
 own sweet, faultless face and lorni. Every 
 happy thought of my existence, has some 
 how had a connection with yourself. I 
 could nol pic lure happiness, withoui. draw 
 ing you ii; glowing colors, the foremost 
 and principal figure. 1 have thought of 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 you by day, dreamed of you by night, for 
 many years have longed to be near you, 
 have worshiped you in secret, and yet 
 have never dared to tell you so till now. 
 Whenever tempted to do wrong, your love 
 ly face has been my Mentor, to chide and 
 restrain me. I have loved you, Lilian 
 deeply, passionately, devotedly loved you, 
 with the first, undefiled love of an ardent 
 temperament as I never can love another. 
 I am about to lea?e, and I tell you this, 
 and only ask if I am loved in return. 
 Speak ! let your sweet lips confirm what 
 your looks have spoken, and I am the 
 happiest of human beings ! " 
 
 1 ceased, and paused for an answer. 
 While speaking, the head of the fair being 
 at whose feet I kneeled, gradually, uncon 
 sciously as it were, sunk upon my shoulder, 
 where it now reposed in all its loveliness. 
 She raised her face, crimson with blushes 
 and wet with tears. Her hand, still held 
 in mine, trembled and her lips, as she 
 essayed to speak. 
 
 "0, Francis!" she at length articu 
 lated then there came a silence. 
 
 " Say on, Lilian, and make me happy ! " 
 
 " No, no ! " she said, quickly, looking 
 hurriedly around her, as if fearful of the 
 presence of another. " No, no, Francis 
 not now some other time." 
 I " But you forget, dear Lilian, that I 
 am about to leave you that there may 
 
 fumed with the oil of roses and mu.sk, took 
 one step over the threshhold, and then, 
 perceiving me, drew quickly back, evi 
 dently as much surprised and embarrassed 
 as myself. Meantime, I had sprung to my 
 feet, with a whirlpool of feelings in my 
 breast, impossible to be described the 
 predominant of which were anger, morti 
 fication and jealousy. Lilian, too, had 
 started up, and turned toward the strangei 
 (stranger to me) with an embarrassed air. 
 
 " I crave pardon," said the intruder, col 
 oring, " for my seeming rudeness in ap 
 pearing thus unannounced. I found the 
 outer door ajar, and made bold to step 
 within, without ringing, not thinking to 
 meet with any here save the regular mem 
 bers of the family." 
 
 " Then you must either be a constant 
 visiter, or no gentleman, to take even that 
 liberty," I rejoined in a sarcastic tone of. 
 some warmth. 
 
 The face of the intruder became aj 
 scarlet at my words, and his eyes flashed 
 indignantly, as he replied, in a sharp, 
 pointed tone : 
 
 " I am a regular visiter here, sir ! bul 
 your face is new to me." 
 
 " Indeed ! " I rejoined, with an express 
 ion of contempt, turning my eyes upon 
 Lilian, as if for an explanation. 
 
 She was trembling with embarrassment, 
 and her features alternately flushing and 
 
 never be a time like the present ! Only | paling, like the rapid playings of an au 
 
 love me, fair one, and it is all I 
 
 she stammered, and 
 
 aay you 
 ask." 
 
 " But but- 
 then paused. 
 
 " Ha ! then I have after all mistaken 
 friendship for love ! " I returned, quickly, 
 starting abruptly to my feet, and feeling 
 some slight symptoms of indignation. 
 
 A*ain her soft, reproachful eye met 
 mine, and every angry impulse vanished 
 before its heavenly ray. 
 
 " You mistake me, Francis," she said. 
 " I I '' another pause. 
 
 Again was I at her feet, ashamed of my 
 hasty display of jealous temper. 
 
 " The word is trembling upon your lips, 
 Lilian," I exclaimed ; " speak it, and " 
 
 At this moment, to my astonishment 
 and chagrin, the door suddenly opened, 
 and an elegantly dressed gentleman, some 
 fire or six years my senior, highly per- 
 
 roro borealis. She hastened to speak, to 
 cover her confusion, and prevent, if pos 
 sible, any further unpleasant remarks. 
 
 "This this is Mr. Wharton, Fran 
 cis," she stammered : "a gentleman whc 
 calls here occasionally. Mr. Whar 
 Wharton, Mr. Leighton an old friend of 
 mine." 
 
 Of course the rules of good breeding 
 required us to bow on being thus formally 
 introduced to each other ; and this we did. 
 but very stiffly, and with an air of secret 
 hate and defiance. That moment we 
 knew ourselves to be rivals, and conse 
 quently enemies ; for it was impossible 
 there should be any love between us. As 
 for myself, I was powerfully excited, and 
 indignant beyond the bounds of propri 
 ety. Hasty, passionate, and jealous in 
 my disposition, I wa* unfit to lore any 
 one ; for to me, 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 " Trifles light as air, 
 <T era confirmations strong as proofs of hoi y writ." 
 
 in consequence of which I only loved, to 
 be miserable, and render the object loved 
 equally so. 
 
 I exchanged no more words with Whar- 
 lon, but turning to Lilian, I said, with all 
 the coolness my boiling blood would al 
 low : 
 
 " So, then, the riddle is solved. Had 
 you been frank enough to have informed 
 me that you expected particular company 
 to-night, I should certainly, ere this, have 
 ridden you of my presence." 
 
 " 0, Francis," cried Lilian, with an im 
 ploring, reproachful look, from eyes moist 
 with tears ; " you are mistaken ! indeed, 
 indeed you are !" 
 
 " 0, yes, of course," I replied, bitterly, 
 as I coolly drew on my glove, and prepared 
 to take my final leave : "Of course I am, 
 or was, mistaken ; but I shall not be like 
 ly to be again immediately, I presume. 
 Farewell, Miss Huntly!" I continued, 
 coldly, rudely extending to her my gloved 
 hand, " I shall probably never see you 
 again, as I leave at an early hour in the 
 morning." 
 
 0, what a look she gave me at that mo 
 ment, of sweet, heart-touching, mournful 
 reproach a look which haunted me for 
 days, for weeks, for months, for years a 
 look which, were I an artist, would per- 
 ad venture be found upon every face I 
 painted. 
 
 il Francis ! " she gasped, and sunk faint 
 ing and colorless upon a seat. 
 
 This, in spite of my jealous feelings, 
 touched me sensibly, and I ws on the 
 point of springing to her aid, when Whar- 
 ton passed me for the purpose. I could 
 stand no more the devil was in me and 
 with a scarcely suppressed imprecation 
 upon my lips, I rushed out of the apart 
 ment. 
 
 In the hall I met my friend Charles. 
 
 "Ha! Frank," he exclaimed, "you 
 
 seem flurried. What has happened ? " 
 
 " Ask me no questions," I replied, 
 
 feinting with my finger to the apaitment 
 had just quitted. " Give my kind re 
 gards to your parents, and bid them fare 
 well for me." 
 
 " But stay a moment." 
 
 " No ! I must go ; " and 1 seized my 
 hat and made for the door. 
 
 " All ready for the start in the morning. 
 I suppose, Frank ? " 
 
 " Ay, for to-night, if you choose," Ire- 
 plied, as I hurried down the steps leading 
 to the street. 
 
 I paused a moment, as my feet touched 
 the pavement, and as 1 did so, heard the 
 voice of Huntly summoning the servants 
 to the aid of his sister. I waited to hear 
 no more, but darted away down the street, 
 like a madman, scarcely knowing, and 
 caring less, whither I went. 
 
 Such was my parting with Lilian Huntiy. 
 
 At last I found my way home, and soft 
 ly stealing to my chamber, threw myself 
 upon the bed but not to sleep. I slept 
 none that night. My brain was like a 
 heated furnace. I rolled to and fro in the 
 greatest mental torture I had 'ever en 
 dured. 
 
 Morn came at last, and with it Charles 
 Huntly, all prepared for the journey. I 
 ate a morsel, pointed out my trunks, sighed 
 a farewell to my parents, jumped into the 
 carriage, and was whirled away with great 
 rapidity. 
 
 Charles looked pale and sad, and was 
 not loquacious. I wanted him to talk to 
 speak of Lilian but he carefully avoided 
 any allusion to her. I was dying to know 
 how he left her, but would not question 
 him on the subject. I inquired how he 
 left the family, however, and he replied : 
 
 " Indifferently well." 
 
 " Well," sighed I, to myself, "she lovee 
 another, so why should I care ? " 
 
 Half-past seven, and the rushing, roll 
 ing, rumbling cars, were bearing us swift 
 ly away. Fifteen minutes more, and the 
 city of our nativity had faded from our 
 view, perhaps forever. 
 
 W T e were speeding on ward- -thirty miles 
 per hour westward ho ! for Oregon. 
 
u 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 REFLECTIONS THE GREAT METROPOLIS 
 
 T1IK WORM) IN MINIATURE THE NATION 
 AL THEATER T ALARM FIRE AWFUL 
 
 PEKIL PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE, ETC. 
 
 STEAMBOATS and railroads ! what mighty 
 inven lions ! With what startling velocity 
 they hurry us along, until even the over 
 charged mind almost feels it lacks the 
 power to keep pace with their progress. 
 Whoever has passed over the Boston and 
 Providence route to New York, will under 
 stand me. One mile-post succeeds an 
 other with a rapidity almost incredible ; 
 and ere he, who travels it for the tirst 
 time, is aware that half the distance is 
 completed, he finds himself in view of the 
 capital of old Rhode Island. 
 
 So it was with myself. I had never 
 been from home, and knew little of the 
 speed with which the adventurer is car 
 ried across this mighty continent. I had 
 beard men speak of it, it is true ; but I 
 had never realized it till now. Perhaps I 
 was longer on the road than I imagined. 
 When the heart is full, we take but little 
 note of external objects, or the flight of 
 time time which is bearing us to the 
 great ocean of eternity. My mind was 
 oppressed and busy. 1 was thinking of 
 home, of fond parents I had left behind, 
 and all the joys of childhood, which I 
 eould never witness again. A thousand 
 things, a thousand scenes, which I had 
 never thought of before, now crowded my 
 brain with a vividness that startled me. 
 They were gone now forever gone ! I 
 I had bid them a last adieu. With one 
 bold leap, I had thrown off youth and 
 become a man a man to think and act 
 for myself. My collegiate days, too, were 
 over days which memory now recalled 
 with sad and painful feelings. 
 
 True, my playmate, my fellow student, 
 my chum, my friend, was by my side. 
 But he, too, was sad and thoughtful. He, 
 too, was thinking of home and friends, the 
 domestic happy fireside, and all that he 
 had left behind. His wonted gaiety, his 
 great flow of spirits, his enthusiasm, were 
 gone ; and he was silent now dumb as a 
 carved image in marble. 
 
 I gazed upon him, and my the ugh U 
 
 ew heavier, sadder. He was now so 
 like Lilian sweet, loved, but ah! dis 
 carded Lilian ! How could I avoid think 
 ing of her, when I gazed upon the pale, 
 sad features of her only brother ! I did 
 think of her ; of how I had left her ; and 
 now that miles were gaining between us, 
 I bitterly accused myself of injustice. 
 Why did I leave her so abruptly, and in 
 such a condition ? My heart smote me, 
 I had wronged her wronged her at the 
 moment of parting, and put reparation out 
 of my power. Why had I done so ? Why 
 did I not part with her as a friend ? If 
 she did not love me, it was not her fault, 
 and I had no right to abuse her. I had 
 acted hastily, imprudently, unjustly. I 
 knew it I felt it felt it keenly ; and, 
 oh ! what would I not have sacrificed for 
 one, even one, moment with her, to sue 
 for pardon. Alas ! alas ! my reflections 
 on my conduct had come too late too 
 late. 
 
 Thus I thought, and thus I felt, while 
 time and progress were alike unnoted, un- 
 cared for. What cared I now for time ? 
 what cared I now for speed ? My mind 
 was a hell of torture almost beyond endu 
 rance, and I only sought to escape myself 
 but sought in vain. 
 
 "Passengers for the steamboat," were 
 the first sounds that aroused me from a 
 painful reverie. 
 
 I looked up with a start, and lo ! I was 
 in the heart of the city, and hundreds 
 were round me. The cars had ceased 
 their motion, and one destination waa 
 gained. At first I could not credit my 
 senses. There must be some mistake 
 we were in the wrong city ! But I waa 
 soon convinced of my error ; and found, 
 alas ! that all was too truly, too coldly 
 correct ; for on the impulse of the mo 
 ment, I had counted on a return to my 
 native soil, and and I will not say what 
 else. 
 
 I roused my friend, who also looked 
 wonderingly about him as if suddenly 
 awakened from a dream, and heaved a t 
 long, deep sigh a dirge to buried scene* 
 and friends away. Mechanically we en 
 tered a carriage, were hurried to the boat, 
 and soon were gliding over the deep blue 
 waters of Long Island Sound. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 15 
 
 Early the next morning T beheld, for the 
 first time, the lofty spires of that great 
 Babylon of America, ycleped New York. 
 What a place of business, bustle, and con 
 fusion ! What hurrying to and fro ! What 
 rushing, scrambling, crowding, each bent 
 on his own selfish end, and caring nothing 
 
 ' O O 
 
 for his neighbor, but all for his neighbor's 
 purse ! How cold the faces of the citizens 
 seem to a stranger ! There are no wel 
 come smiles no kind greetings all are 
 wrapped up in their own pursuits : and he 
 feels at once, although surrounded by 
 thousands, that he is now indeed alone, 
 without a friend, save such as can be 
 "bought. 
 
 On the ocean, on the prairie, or in the 
 forest, man is not alone ; he does not feel 
 alone ; for he is with Nature in all her 
 wildness in all her beauty ; and she ever 
 has a voice, which reaches his inner heart, 
 and, in sweet companionship, whispers 
 him to behold her wonders, and through 
 her look up to the Author of all her God 
 and his ' But in the great city it is differ 
 ent vastly different. Here all is artifi 
 cial, studied, and cold ; and as we gaze 
 Upon the thousands that throng the streets, 
 and mark the selfish expressions on the 
 faes of each, we feel an inward loathing, 
 a disgust for mankind, and long to steal 
 away to some quiet spot and commune 
 with our own thoughts in silence. 
 
 Such were my reflections, as the rum 
 bling vehicle whirled me over the pave 
 ments to that prince of hotels, (in name 
 and wealth at least) the Astor House. 
 True, I had been born and brought up in 
 a city ; but still these rriatters "ted never 
 forced themselves so strongly' updn my 
 mind as now. I was a stranger in a strange 
 city, and, with my otherwise misanthropic 
 feelings, I doubly felt them in all their 
 force. 
 
 The window of the apartment assigned 
 me at the Astor House, looked out upon 
 that world-renowned thoroughfare, Broad 
 way. Dinner over, I seated myself at the 
 casement and gazed forth. What a world 
 in miniature was spread before my eyes \ 
 What a whirlpool of confusion and excite 
 ment ! Before me, a little to my left, was 
 the Park its trees beautifully decorated 
 with the flowers and leaves of spring, and 
 te many -winding walks thronged with 
 
 human beings. From out its center rose 
 the City Hall the hall of justice. Along 
 one side ran Broadway along the other. 
 Park Row.but shooting off at an angle from 
 the main thoroughfare of the former 
 both crowded with carriages of all de 
 scriptions, from the splendid vehicle of 
 fashion, with its servants in livery, and 
 its silver-trimmed harness, down to the 
 common dray crowded with footmen, 
 from the prince to the beggar, all hurrying 
 and jostling together. Here sauntered the 
 lady and gentlemai of fashion, robed in 
 the most costly apparel money could pro 
 cure, bedecked with diamonds and gold, 
 sapphire and ruby; there, side by side, on 
 the same pavement, aknost touching them, 
 stroled the poor, forlorn, pale-faced, hol 
 low-eyed mendicant, partially clothed in 
 filthy rags, and perhaps actually dying for 
 a morsel of food. Great Heaven ! what 
 a comment on humanity ! 
 
 I have mentioned only the extremes ; 
 but fancy both sexes of all grades, sizes, 
 and nations between and you have a pic 
 ture which no city on the American con 
 tinent save New York can present. 
 
 The evening found my friend and my 
 self at the National Theatre then new, 
 splendidly decorated, and in successful 
 operation. It was crowded almost to suf 
 focation with the elite of the city. Round 
 ed arms and splendid busts, set off" with 
 jewels rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes, 
 were displayed on every hand, by the 
 bewitching light of magnificent glass-tas- 
 selled chandeliers. But of these I took lit 
 tle note. My attention was fixed upon 
 the play. It was that impassioned crea 
 tion of Shakspeare, Romeo and Juliet. 
 My mind was just in a condition to feel 
 the burning words of the lovers in all their 
 force ; and I concentrated my whole soul 
 upon it, listened every word, watched 
 every motion, to the exclusion of every 
 thing else. The . first and second acts 
 were already over, and the last scene of 
 the third, the parting between the lovers, 
 was on the stage. A breathless silence 
 reigned around. Every eye was fixed 
 upon the players every head inclined a 
 little forward, to catch the slightest tones 
 of the speakers. Already had the ardent 
 and unfortunate Romeo sighed the tender 
 words : 
 
16 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 " Farewell ! I will omit no opportunity 
 That may convey my greetings, love, to tliee ; '* 
 
 and the answer of Juliet, 
 
 " O, think'st thou, we shall ever meet again? " 
 
 was even trembling on her lips when, 
 suddenly, to the consternation and horror 
 of all, there arose the terrific cry of, 
 
 " Fire ! fir 3 ! the theatre is on fire ! " 
 
 Heavens ! what a scene ensued and 
 what feelings came over me ! Never shall 
 I forget either. In a moment all was 
 frightful confusion, as each sought to gain 
 the street. Startling shrieks, appalling 
 yells, and hideous groans, resounded on 
 all sides. Hundreds, I might say thou 
 sands, rushed pell-mell to the doors, to es 
 cape the devouring element, which, already 
 lapping the combustible scenery, was seen 
 shooting upward its lurid tongues, and 
 heard hissing, and snapping, and crackling, 
 in its rapid progress over the devoted build 
 ing. I grasped the arm of my friend, and 
 cried : " Rush, Charley, for your life ! " and 
 sprang forward. 
 
 The next moment I felt myself seized 
 from behind, and the voice of my friend 
 Khouted in my ear : 
 
 ' ' Hold ! Frank we must save her ! " 
 
 "Whom?" 
 
 " Yonder! See ! they have crowded her 
 back ! and now great God ! she has 
 fallen over into the pit ! " 
 
 I looked in the direction indicated by 
 the finger of Huntly, and beheld a beau 
 tiful female, vainly struggling to reach the 
 door. As he spoke, a sudden rush for 
 ward crowded her back to the railing 
 which divided her from the excited mass 
 of beings in the pit. One moment she 
 balanced on the railing, and the next, with 
 a cry of terror, fell upon the heads of 
 those below. At any other time she 
 would ,have been cared for ; but now all 
 were wild with terror, and thought only 
 of themselves ; and instead of seeking to 
 aid, they allowed her to sink under their 
 feet. Save my friend and I, no one seemed 
 to heed her. With a cry of horror, I 
 leaped forward to rescue her from a horri 
 ble death But my friend was already 
 before me. One bound, and Charles 
 Huntly was among the wedged mass be 
 low, and exerting all his strength to reach 
 the prostrate form of the lady, who was 
 
 now being trod to death under the feet of 
 the rushing multitude. I would have 
 sprang over the railing myself, but I saw 
 it would be useless ; one was better than 
 two ; and I paused and watched the pro 
 gress of my friend with an anxiety better 
 imagined than described. 
 
 So dense was the mass, so closely 
 wedged, that for a time all the efforts of 
 Huntly to reach the unfortunate creature 
 were vain ; while the glaring light, and 
 the roar of the flames, as they eagerly 
 leaped forward to the dome over headj 
 rendered the scene truly dismal and awful. 
 
 At length the crowd grew thinner, as 
 it poured through the open doorway ; and 
 renewing his exertions, my friend shortly 
 gained the side of the unknown. He 
 stooped down to raise her, and I trembled 
 for his safety, for I saw numbers fairly 
 pressing upon him. "With a Herculean 
 effort, that must Lave 'exhausted all his 
 animal powers, I beheld him rise to his 
 feet, with the fair unknown seemingly 
 lifeless in his arms. I uttered a cry of joy, 
 as he staggered toward me with his burden. 
 
 "Quick! quick! this way give her 
 here ! " I shouted, bending over the rail 
 ing and extending my arms toward her. 
 
 Huntly staggered forward, and the next 
 moment my grasp was upon her, and she 
 was in my arms. 
 
 " Fly ! Frank fast for God's sake ! 
 and give her air ! " gasped Huntly, in a 
 faint, exhausted tone. 
 
 I cast one glance at her pale, lovely fea 
 tures, on which were a few spots of blood, 
 from a contusion on the head, and then 
 darted over the benches to the door, bid 
 ding my friend follow, but looking not 
 behind. 
 
 The boxes were now empty, and the 
 doors but slightly blocked, so that I had 
 little difficulty, to use a stage expression, 
 in making my exit. The street, however, 
 was crowded with those just escaped, and 
 others attracted hither by the alarm of 
 tire. All was excitement and dismay. 
 Parents were rushing to and fro, seeking 
 their children children their parents ; 
 wives and maidens their husbands and 
 lovers, and vice versa. 
 
 I pushed my way through the crowd as 
 best I could, with my lovely burden in my 
 arms, and at length reached the opposiU 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 ado-walk, where I paused to rest, and, 
 if possible, to restore the fair one to con 
 sciousness. As I began chafing her tem 
 ples, I heard a female voice shriek, in 
 agonizing tones : 
 
 " Good God ! will no one save my child 
 - my only child my daughter the idol 
 of my heart ! " 
 
 ! looked around me, and beheld, by the 
 light of the burning building,? middle- 
 aged female, richly clad, only a iV-w paces 
 distant, violently wringing 'her hands, in 
 mental agony, and looking imploringly, 
 first, at the already trembling structure, 
 and then into trie faces of the bystanders, 
 as if in search of an answer to her heart 
 rending appeal. 
 
 " Oh God! oh God! save her! save her ! 
 she must not, shall not die ! I will give 
 a thousand dollars for her life ! " 
 
 A thought struck me. Perhaps she was 
 die mother of the senseless being I held ; 
 and instantly I raised her in my arms and 
 darted forward. 
 
 " Is this your daughter, lady ? " I cried, 
 as I came up. 
 
 She looked wildly about her one pain 
 ful glance and then, with a shriek, sprang 
 to and threw her arms around the fair 
 creature's neck, and burst into tears. 
 
 ".God ! I thank thee ! " were the, first 
 . articulate words from her now quivering 
 lips. "I have got my daughter again ! " 
 and snatching her from my arms, she 
 pressed kiss after kiss upon her lips, with 
 all the wild, passionate fondness of a mo 
 ther. "Ha! is she dead ?" she cried, with 
 a look of horror, appealing to me. 
 
 " Only fainted," was my reply, made at 
 a venture, for I dared not confirm my own 
 fears. 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! God be praised ! I see ! 
 I see ! She is returning to consciousness. 
 But this blood this wound ?" 
 
 " A slight fall," I answered. 
 
 " And you, sir you? I promised a thou 
 sand dollars. Here is part, and my card 
 
 Call to-night, or to-morrow, at (I 
 
 failed to catch the name) and the balance 
 shall be yours." 
 
 " I did" not save her for money ; in fact, 
 I did not save her at all it was my friend," 
 I replied, taking from her extended hand 
 the card, but refusing the purse which it 
 ilso held. 
 
 " And where is your friend ?" she asked, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 Heavens ! what a shock her Avords pro 
 duced ! Where was my friend, indeed ! 1 
 looked hurriedly around, among the swny- 
 ing multitude, but saw nothing of Charles 
 Huntly. A terrible thought seized me. 
 Perhaps he had -not made his escape ! I 
 cast one glance at the burning pile, and, 
 to my consignation, beheld the flames ai 
 ready bursting from the roof. Had he es- 
 'caped ? and if not if not ! great God, 
 what a thought ! I waited to say, to hear 
 no more, but turned and rushed into the 
 swaying mass, shouting the name of my 
 schoolmate. No answer was returned. I 
 shouted louder but still heard not his well 
 known voice. Great God ! what feelings 
 came over me ! pen cannot describe them. 
 Onward, onward, still I pressed onward, and 
 shouted at every step but, alas! no answer. 
 
 At length I reached the door of the the 
 atre leading to the boxes. It was filled 
 with smoke, passing outward, through 
 which I could catch glimpses of the de 
 vouring flames, and hear their awful roar. 
 One pause an instant only and with his 
 name upon my lips, I darted into the shak 
 ing building. I gained the boxes, and 
 found the heat of the flames almost un 
 bearable. They had already reached the 
 railing nearest the stage, and overhead 
 had eaten through the roof, from which 
 burning cinders were dropping upon the 
 blazing benches in the pit. The smoke 
 was stifling, and I could scarcely breathe. 
 I looked down where I had last seen my 
 friend, and beheld a dark object on the 
 floor. I called Huntly by name, in a voice 
 of agony. -Meto ought the object stirred, 
 and I fancied I heard a groan. The next 
 moment I was in the pit, bending over the 
 object. Gracious God ! it was Huntly ! 
 From some cause he had not been able to 
 escape. Instantly I raised him in my arms, 
 and, with a tremendous effort, threw him 
 into the boxes. I attempted to follow, but 
 failed The smoke was proving too much, 
 for me, and the heat becoming intense. 
 Again I tried, with like success, fbegau 
 to feel dizy, and faint, and thought I was 
 perishing. I sank back and looked up at 
 the roof. I could see it trembling. . A few 
 moments, and it would be upon me. God 
 of Heaven ! what a death 1 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 At this moment of despair, I felt a cur 
 rent of air rushing in upon me. It revived 
 me, and I made a third attempt to clamber 
 into the boxes. Joy ! joy ! I succeed 
 ed. I caught hold of Charles, and, with 
 my remaining strength, dragged him to 
 the door, and into the open air. Some five 
 or six persons now rushed to my assistance, 
 and in another moment I had gained the 
 opposite side of the street. As I did so, 
 I heard a thundering noise behind me. I 
 turned quickly round, and no pen can 
 describe my feelings when I understood 
 the cause. The roof of the building had 
 fallen in, and bright sheets of flame, and 
 burning cinders, were shooting upward on 
 the dark pall of the arching heavens. I 
 had just escaped with my life ; and if ever 
 I uttered a prayer of sincere gratitude to 
 the Author of my being, it was then. 
 
 As I stood gazing upon the remainder of 
 the structure, I saw the walls totter ; and 
 ere I had time to move from the spot, the 
 front wall went down, with a thundering 
 sound, and lay a pile of smoking ruins 
 a part falling inward, and a part outward. 
 The heat was now excessive ; and as I 
 sought to bear my unconscious friend fur 
 ther from the fire, the side walls plunged 
 inward, leaving only the back wall stand 
 ing. This now seemed to waver totter 
 and then, great Heaven ! it fell outward, 
 upon an adjoining building, crushing in the 
 roof, and, as I afterward learned, killing 
 one of its inmates almost instantly. 
 
 By this time Huntly had begun to re 
 vive, and in a few minutes he was perfect 
 ly restored the smoke and his exertions, 
 only, having overcome him. He stared 
 around him for a monient in wonder, and 
 then seemed to comprehend all. Grasp 
 ing my hand, with a nervous pressure, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Thank God ! we are all saved; though 
 I thought all was over with me. I see, j 
 dear Frank, I owe all to you. But the 
 lady, Frank 1 " 
 
 " I left her safe in the arms of her mo 
 ther. " 
 
 " Tlfonk God, again, for that ! But who 
 is she ? and where does she live ? " and I 
 felt the grasp of Charles tighten upon my 
 arm. 
 
 " I know neither ; but I have her mo 
 ther's card here. " 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! give it me ! " cried 
 Huntly, with an impatience that surprised 
 me. 
 
 But I was mistaken ; I had not the card, 
 it was lost ; and with it, all clue to the per 
 sons in question. With an expression of 
 deep and painful disappointment, my friend 
 turned away. 
 
 " But AVC may yet find thorn, " I said ; 
 " they were here a few minute since " 
 
 " Where, Frank where ? " 
 
 " Yonder; " and I hastened to the spot 
 where I had left them ; but to the dis 
 appointment of myself, as well as Huntly 
 they were gone. 
 
 I made inquiries of all around, but no 
 body had seen, or knew any thing of them. 
 
 " Always my luck, Frank," said Huntly, 
 with a siyh ; and jumping into a hack, we 
 were shortly set down at the steps of the 
 Astor. 
 
 That night I dreamed of fire of res 
 cuing Lilian Huntly from the flames. 
 
 Early the next morning we were onc 
 more upon our long journey swifl.ly 
 speeding toward the far, Far West 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE OHIO THE HIBERNIAN ARRIVAL 19 
 
 CINCINNATI A FIRE A FIGHT NARROW 
 
 ESCAPE THE JOURNEY RESUMED. 
 
 IT was a calm, beautiful day, that found 
 myself and friend on the hurricane deck 
 of a magnificent steamer, and gliding 
 swiftly down the calm, silvery waters of 
 that winding, lovely, and romantic stream, 
 the Ohio, or La Belle Riviere. We had 
 passed through Philadelphia, Baltimore, 
 and Pittsburgh, without stopping, and vver 
 now speeding over the waters of this rivei 
 on our journey to the Far West Nevei 
 had I seen a stream before so fascinating 
 in all its attractions. On my right was 
 the State of Ohio on my left, those of 
 Virginia and Kentucky ; and en either 
 hand, beautiful villages, farms, and plea 
 sure grounds, with tree, blade, and flowei 
 in the delightful bloom of a pleasant spring. 
 Here was a hill clotlied with trees, Teach 
 ing even to, overhanging, and mirroring 
 their green forms in the glassy tide ; ther 
 a smiling plain, stretching gracefully away 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 19 
 
 from the river's bank, teeming with the 
 growing products of the husbandman ; 
 while yonder a beautiful lawn, anon a vil 
 lage, or a pleasant farmhouse, rendered 
 the whole scene picturesque and lovely 
 beyond description. 
 
 The longer I gazed, the more I felt my 
 spirits revive, until I began to resume 
 something of the joyousness of by-gone 
 days. A similar effect I could perceive 
 was beginning to tell upon my friend. 
 The first keen pang of leaving home was 
 becoming deadened. We were now in a 
 part of the world abounding with every 
 thing delightful, and felt that our adven 
 tures had really begun. We thought of 
 home and friends occasionally, it is true ; 
 but then it was only occasionally ; and 
 mingling with our feelings, were thoughts 
 of the present and glorious anticipations 
 for the future. We were strong, in the 
 very prime of life, and bound on a journey 
 of adventure, where everything being en 
 tirely new, was calculated to withdraw our 
 minds from the scenes we had bid adieu. 
 The future is always bright to the imagi 
 nation of the young and inexperienced ; 
 and we looked forward with delight to 
 scenes on and beyond the broad and 
 mighty prairies of the west. 
 
 " Well, Frank," said Huntly, at length, 
 with something of his former light-hearted 
 nir, " what think you of this ? " 
 
 " It is superlatively beautiful," I ex 
 claimed, with enthusiam. 
 
 " I agree with you there, Frank," he 
 replied ; " but then this will all sink into 
 insignificance, when we come to behold 
 what lies beyond the bounds of civiliza 
 tion. 0, I am in raptures with my jour 
 ney. What a beautiful land is this West ! 
 I do not wonder that emigration sets hith- 
 erward, for it seems the Paradise of 
 earth." 
 
 " Ay, it does indeed." 
 
 " But I say, Frank, there is one thing 
 we have overlooked." 
 
 " Well, Charley, what is it ? " 
 
 " Why, we must engage a servant to 
 look after our baggage ; and so let us em 
 ploy one with whom we can have a little 
 sport. 1 am dying for a hearty laugh." 
 
 " But that mav not be so easy to do," 
 said I. 
 
 " Pshaw ! don't you believe a word of 
 
 it. Now I have been standing here for 
 the last ten minutes, laying my plans, and 
 if you have no objection, I will try and 
 put them in operation." 
 
 " None at all," I returned ; " but let me 
 hear them first." 
 
 " Do you see that fellow yonder, 
 Frank?" pointing to a rather green-look 
 ing specimen of the Emerald Isle. 
 
 I do. Well ? " 
 
 " Well, I am going to try him ; so come 
 along and see the result ; " and with this 
 Huntley strode to the stern of the boat, 
 where the son of Erin was standing, with 
 his arms crossed on his back, gazing 
 around him with an air of wondering 
 curiosity. 
 
 He was a rare specimen of a Paddy, and 
 bore all the marks of fresh importation. 
 His coat was a wool-mixed gray, with 
 bright metal buttons, and very short skirts. 
 His pants were made of a greenish fus 
 tian, the upper portion of which barely 
 united with a very short vest. Heavy 
 brogans encased his feet, and a hat, with 
 a rim of an inch in width, all the worse 
 for wear, beneath which his sandy hair 
 came low upon his brow, covered his head. 
 A large mouth, pug nose, ruddy cheeks, 
 and bright, cunning gray eyes, denoted 
 him daring, witty, and humorous. In fact, 
 he was Paddy throughout, dress and all ; 
 and being a strong, hearty fellow, was just 
 the one to suit us. 
 
 " Well, Pat, a handsome country, this," 
 said Huntly, in a familiar tone, as he came 
 up to him. 
 
 " Troth, now, ye may well say that same, 
 your honor, barring the name of Pat, which 
 isn't mine at all, at all, but simply Teddy 
 O'Lagherty jist," replied the Hibernian, 
 with great volubility, in the real, rolling 
 Irish brogue, touching his hat respectfully. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Teddy though I suppose 
 it makes little difference to you what name 
 you get?" 
 
 " Difference, is it, ye're spaking of ? To 
 the divil wid ye now, for taking me for a 
 spalpeen ! D'ye be afther thinking, now, 
 I don't want the name that me mother's 
 grandfather, that was a relation to her, 
 barring that he was'nt her grandfather at 
 all, but only her daddy, give me ? " 
 
 " O, well then, never mind I will call 
 you Teddy," said Charles, laughing, and 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 winking at-me. | " But I say, Teddy, whore 
 are you bound ? " 
 
 " Bound, is it, ye 're asking ? Och ! I'm 
 not bound at all, at all but frae as the 
 biped of a chap ye calls a toad, that St. 
 Path rick (Missings on his name !) kicked 
 out o' ould Ireland, for a baastly sarpent, 
 an* it was." 
 
 "Did St. Patrick wear brogans when 
 he kicked the toad so far ? " asked Huntly, 
 gravely. 
 
 " Brogans ! " cried Teddy, with a comi 
 cal look of surprise, that any one should 
 be so ignorant: " Brogans, ye spalpeen.! 
 beg pardon ! your honor I mane why he 
 was a saint, a howly saint, ye divil beg 
 oardon ! your honor and didn't naad the 
 ailp of kivering to kaap the crathurs from 
 biting him." 
 
 " 0, yes," said Huntly, feigning to re 
 collect ; " I remember now, he was a saint ; 
 and of course he could kick anybody, or 
 anything, whether bare-footed or shod." 
 
 " He could do that same could St. 
 Pathrick," replied the Irishman ; " and as 
 asy too, as your honor could be afther 
 ?wollering a paaled praty, barring the 
 shokirig if yees didn't chaw, it hand 
 somely." 
 
 " A fellow if infinite jest ; I like him 
 much," said Huntly to me, aside, with a 
 smile. " I must secure him eh, Frank ? " 
 
 "Certainly, by all means," I replied, in 
 the same manner; "for his like we ne'er 
 may see again." 
 
 " But if you are not bound, Teddy," 
 continued Huntly, addressing the Irish 
 man, " pray tell me whither you are 
 going?" 
 
 " Faith, now, ye've jist axed a question 
 which meself has put to Teddy O'Lagherty 
 more'n fifty times, without gitting a single 
 straight answer." 
 
 " Then I suppose you are, like us, on a 
 journey of adventure." 
 
 " It's like I may be, for a divil of a thing 
 else me knows about it." 
 
 " Would you like to get employment ? " 
 
 " Would a pig like to ate his supplier, 
 or a nager like to stael ? " answered Teddy, 
 promptly. 
 
 " How would you like to engage with 
 us now ? " 
 
 " Troth, I've done many a worse thing, 
 I'm thinking, your honor." 
 
 "No doubt of it, Teddy." 
 
 " But what d'ye want of me, your hon 
 or ? and where to go ?- for I'm liking 
 travel, if it's all the same to yees." 
 
 " So much the better, for we are bound 
 on a long journey ; " and Charles pro 
 ceeded to explain our intentions, and in 
 what capacity the other would be wanted. 
 
 " Och ! " cried Teddy, jumping up and 
 cracking his heels with delight, to our great 
 amusement ; " it's that same I'd be afther 
 saaking, if ye'd a axed me what I wanted." 
 
 " Think you can shoot Indians, eh J 
 Teddy ? " 
 
 " Shoot, is it? Faith, I can shoot any 
 thing that flies on two legs. Although I 
 sez it myself, what shouldn't, but let me 
 mother for me, I'm the greatest shooter ye 
 iver knew, I is." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am glad to hear it, Teddy , 
 for I presume we shall have plenty of shoot 
 ing to do. But what did you ever kill, 
 Teddy? " 
 
 " Kill, is it ? Troth, now, ye're afthei 
 heading me wid your cunning." 
 
 " Well, then, what did you shoot ? " 
 
 " A two-legged bir-r-d, your honor." 
 
 " Well, you killed it, of course ? " 
 
 " Killed it ! Agh ! now ye're talking. 
 Faith, it wouldn't die. I shot it as pLus 
 as daylight, right fornenst the back- bone 
 of its spine ; and would ye belave it, divi) 
 of a shot touched it at all, at all the ujjly 
 baast that it was." 
 
 "Well, well, Teddy, I think you will 
 do," said Huntly, laughing; and forthwith 
 he proceeded to close the bargain with the 
 Irishman. 
 
 Our trip proved very delightful, and in 
 due time we arrived at Cincinnati, where 
 it was our design to spend at least a day. Il 
 was a beautiful morning, when we rounded 
 the first bend above the city, and beheld 
 the spires of this great western mart glit 
 tering in the sunbeams. The levee w* 
 found lined with boats, and crowded witfa 
 drays, hacks, and merchandise ; and every 
 thing bespoke the life and briskness of im 
 mense trade. Taking rooms at the Broad 
 way Hotel, we sauntered forth to view the 
 city, and evening found us well pleased witK 
 our day's ramble. 
 
 It was about eleven o'clock on the nighl 
 succeeding our arrival, that, having re 
 turned from a concert, we were preparing 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 21 
 
 to retire to rest, when 'the alarm of fire, 
 accompanied by a bright light; which shone 
 in at our windows, attracted 'our attention. 
 "Ha! here is another adventure, Char 
 ley," I exclaimed, replacing my coat, which 
 I was in the act of taking from my shoul 
 ders. " Come, once more forth, and let us 
 see what we can discover that is new and 
 startling for to-morrow, you knosv, we 
 
 O * 
 
 leave." 
 
 " Not to-night, Frank," answered Hunt- 
 ly, yawning and rubbing his eyes. " !'- 
 faith, man, I've seen enough of fire to last 
 me for a long time ; and O, (yawning 
 again) I am so sleepy." 
 
 " Then I will go alone." 
 
 " Well, go ; for myself, I'll to bed and 
 dream about it. But I say, Frank," pur 
 sued Huntly, as I was on the point of quit 
 ting the room, " have you secured your 
 pistols about you ? " 
 
 "Xo" 
 
 "You had better." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I do not want them : I am 
 not going to fight." 
 
 " Nevertheless you had better go armed, 
 in a strange place like this." 
 
 " Nonsense," I replied, closing the door, 
 Rnd hurrying down a flight of stairs, and 
 into the street. 
 
 A thought struck me, that I would take 
 'Teddy along ; but upon second considera 
 tion I resolved to go alone. 
 
 There was but little difficulty in finding 
 the fire, for a bright flame, shooting up 
 ward on the dark canopy above, guided 
 me to it. Passing up Broadway to Sixth 
 street, I turned down some 'four or five 
 squares, and discovered the fire to proceed 
 from an old,, two-story wooden building. 
 which had been tenanted by two or three 
 families of the poorer class. At the mo 
 ment when I arrived, four engines were in 
 active play, and some two or three others 
 preparing to join them. The water was 
 not thrown upon the burning building for 
 that was already too far gone but upon 
 one or two others that nearly joined, which 
 wvre smoking from the heat. Many house 
 hold articles had been thrown into the 
 street, and these were surrounded by the 
 tire-watch ; while an Irishman and his 
 wife, with a daughter of sixteen, were run 
 ning to and fro, and lamenting in piteous 
 tones the loss of their home and property. 
 
 " Och ! howly mither of Mary ! was the 
 like on't iver saan ? " cried the matron, 
 some forty-five years of age, whose tidy 
 dress bespoke her a rather thrifty house 
 wife. 
 
 " Niver, since the flood," blubbered her 
 husband, dolefully. 
 
 "What an invintion is fire!" again 
 cried the mother. 
 
 " Tirrible crathur it is," rejoined the 
 daughter. 
 
 " Och, honey, don't be despairing now !" 
 said a voice, which I fancied I recognized ; 
 and turning toward the speaker, to my as 
 tonishment I beheld Teddy, in the laudable 
 act of consoling the afflicted damsel. 
 
 " Teddy ! " I shouted. 
 
 " Here, your honor," returned the Hi 
 bernian, looking around in surprise, and 
 advancing to me with an abashed air. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Teddy?" 
 I continued. " I thought you were at the 
 hotel, and asleep." 
 
 " Faith ! and it's like I thought the same 
 of your honor, barring the slaap," rejoined 
 the Irishman, scratching his head. " I 
 seed the tire, your honor, and I thought 
 as maybe there'd be some females that'd 
 naad consoling ; and so, >ye see, I gathered 
 meself hitherward, as fast as me trotters 
 would let me." 
 
 " And so you make it your business to 
 console females, eh ? " I asked, with a smile 
 which I could not repress. 
 
 " Faith, now," answered Teddy, " if it's 
 all the same to yourself, your honor, I'm a 
 female man, barring the dress they wears." 
 
 "Well, well," said I, laughing outright 
 in spite of myself, "go on in your good 
 work but mind you are at your post be 
 times in the morning,, or you will be left 
 behind." 
 
 " It's meself that'll not forgit that same," 
 answered the other, as he turned away to 
 rejoin the party in distress, and add his 
 consolation. 
 
 At this moment I felt myself rudely 
 jostled from behind, and, turning quickly 
 round, found myself hemmed in by a 
 crowd, in which two men were fighting, 
 I endeavored to escape, and, in doing so, 
 accidentally trod on the foot of a stranger, 
 who turned furiously upon me, with : 
 
 "What in (uttering an oath) du 
 
 you mean ? " 
 
23 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 "An accident," said I, apologetically. 
 
 "You're a liar!" he rejoined; "you 
 did it a purpose." 
 
 I never was remarkable for prudence at 
 any time, or I should have been more 
 cautious on the present occasion. But the 
 insulting words of the stranger made my 
 young blood boil, until I felt its heat in 
 my face. Without regard to consequences, 
 and ere the words had fairly escaped his 
 lips, I struck him a blow in the face, so 
 violent that he fell back upon the ground. 
 
 " Another fight ! " cried a dozen voices 
 at once : " Another fight ! hurrah ! " 
 
 In a moment I regretted what I had 
 done, but it was too late. I would have 
 escaped, but the crowd had now formed 
 around me so dense, that escape was im 
 possible. Besides, my antagonist, regain 
 ing his feet, his face covered with blood, 
 was now advancing upon me furiously. 
 There was no alternative ; and watching 
 my opportunity as he came up, I dexter 
 ously planted the second blow exactly 
 where I had the first, and down he went 
 
 again. 
 
 "A trump, by 
 
 ! " " Give it to 
 
 him, stranger ! " " He's a few ! " were 
 some of the expressions which greeted 
 me from the delighted bystanders. 
 
 But I had a short time to enjoy my tri 
 umph if such a display of animal powers 
 may be termed a triumph for the next 
 moment I beheld my adversary again ap 
 proaching, but more warily than before, 
 and evidently better prepared for the com 
 bat. I was not considered a bad pugilist 
 for one of my age, nor did I in general fear 
 one of my race ; but as I gazed upon my 
 advancing foe, I will be frank to own that 
 I trembled for the result. He was a pow 
 erfully built man, six feet in stature, had a 
 tremendous arm, and an eye that would 
 quail lefore nothing mortal. 
 
 " By ! young chap," he exclaimed, 
 
 as he came up, " you've done what nobody 
 else has of latter years. Take that, and 
 see how you'll like it ; " and with the word 
 be threw all his strength into a blow, that 
 fell like a sledge hammer. 
 
 I saw it, and prepared to ward it. I did 
 so, partially, but its force broke my guard, 
 and his double-jointed fist alighting upon 
 my head, staggered me back and brought 
 me to my knees. With all the suppleness 
 
 I was master of, I sprang to my feet, only 
 to receive another blow, which laid me out 
 upon the flinty pavement. For a moment 
 I was stunned and confused ; bul regain 
 ing my senses and feet, I prepared to renew 
 the contest. 
 
 "I say, stranger," said ray antagonist, 
 motioning his hand for a parley, " you're 
 good blood, but you haint got quite enough 
 of the metal to cope with me. You're 
 only a boy yit, and so just consider your 
 self licked, and go home, afore I git can 
 tankerous and hurt you a few." 
 
 But I was not in a condition to take his 
 advice. True, I was bruised and fatigued, 
 and should have rested satisfied to let the 
 affair end thus. But my worst passions 
 had now got the better of my reasoning 
 powers. I fancied I had been insulted, 
 disgraced, and that nothing but victory or 
 death could remove the stigma. I saw 
 some of the spectators smile, and some 
 look pityingly upon me, and this decidee 
 my course of action. My temper rose, my 
 eyes flashed, and my cheeks burned, as 
 I thought of the insulting words of the 
 other. 
 
 " Some men live by bullying," I replied, 
 pointedly ; " and I suppose you are one of 
 them ; if not, you will keep your advice 
 till one of us is the victor." 
 
 My opponent looked upon me with a 
 mingled expression of surprise and rage- 
 
 " Fool ! " he cried, "do you dare mo 
 
 again to the fight ? By ! I'll whip 
 
 you this time or die ! " 
 
 " Make your words good," I retorted, 
 springing forward, and pretending to aim 
 a blow at his head. 
 
 He prepared to ward it, and, in doing so, 
 left his abdomen unguarded. He saw his 
 mistake, but too late to retrieve it ; for 
 instead of striking with my fist, I only 
 made a feint, and doubling with great dex 
 terity, took him with my nead just below 
 the pit of the stomach, and hurled him 
 over backward upon the ground. He 
 threw out his hand, caught me as he fell,, 
 and drew me upon him. 
 
 Now came the contest in earnest. I had 
 a slight advantage in being uppermost , 
 but how long it would last was doubtful , 
 for throwing his arms around, he strove 
 to turn me. I seized him by the throat, 
 and clung there with the tenacity of a 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 23 
 
 drowning man to a rope. He made a des 
 perate effort to bring me under, but still I 
 maintained my position. The force of my 
 grasp now began to tell upon him. He 
 strangled, and I could sensibly perceive he 
 ras growing weaker. At length, just as 
 I was about to relax my hold, for fear of 
 choking him to death, he suddenly threw 
 up one hand, buried it in my hair, twined 
 a long lock around his finger, and the next 
 moment placed his thumb to my eye, with 
 a force that seemed to start the ball from 
 its socket. 
 
 Great Heaven ! what a feeling of horror 
 came over me ! I was about to lose an 
 eye be disfigured for life. Death, I fan 
 cied, was preferable to this ; and instantly 
 releasing his throat, I seized his hand with 
 both of mine. This was exactly what he 
 desired ; and the next moment I found 
 myself whirled violently upon my back on 
 the rough pavement, and my antagonist 
 uppermost. I attempted to recover my 
 former advantage, but in vain. My ad 
 versary was by far too powerful a man. 
 Grasping my throat with one hand, with 
 Bnch a pressure that everything began to 
 grow dark, he partly raised himself, plant 
 ed, a knee upon my breast, and with the 
 other hand drew a long knife. I just 
 caught a glimmer of the blade, as he 
 
 ... 
 
 raised it to give me a fatal stab ; but I 
 was too exhausted and overmastered to 
 make any resistance ; and I closed my 
 eyes in despair, and felt that all was over. 
 
 Suddenly I heard the voice of Teddy, 
 shouting : 
 
 " To the divil wid ye, now, for a blath- 
 ing spalpeen, that ye is ! " and at the same 
 moment I felt the grasp of my opponent 
 leave my throat, and his weight my body. 
 
 With my remaining strength I rose to a 
 sitting posture, and saw Teddy dancing 
 around me, flourishing a hickory shelaleh 
 over his head in the scientific manner 
 of his countrymen, and whooping, shout 
 ing, and cursing, in a way peculiar to 
 himself. 
 
 By some means he had been made aware 
 of my danger, and, like a noble fellow, 
 had rushed into the crowd and felled my 
 adversary, with a blow so powerful that he 
 still lay senseless upon the ground. 
 
 " And who are you, that dares thus to 
 Interfere?" cried a voice in the crowd, 
 
 which found immediate echo with a dozen 
 others. 
 
 " Who am I, ye blaggards ? " roared 
 Teddy : " Who should I be but a watch 
 man, ye dirthy scull-mullions, yees ! 
 Come," he cried, seizing me by the col 
 lar, " ye'Il gi f a lock-up the night for this 
 blaggard business of disturbing the slum 
 bers of honest paaple afore they've gone 
 to bid, jist." 
 
 I saw his ruse at once, and determined 
 to profit by it, and make my escape. To 
 do this, I pretended, of course, that I was 
 not the aggressor, and that it was very 
 hard to be brought up before the Mayor 
 for a little harmless fun. 
 
 " Harmless fun ! " roared the cunning 
 Irishman. " D'ye call it harmless fun, 
 now, to have your throat cut, ye scoundrel ? 
 Come along wid ye ! " and he pretended 
 to jerk me through the crowd, which gave 
 way before him. 
 
 We had just got fairly clear of the mass, 
 when we heard voices behind us shouting : 
 
 " Stop 'em ! stop 'em ! he's no watch." 
 
 " Faith, they're afther smelling the joke 
 whin it's too late," said Teddy. " But 
 run, your honor, or the divils will be howld 
 of us." 
 
 I needed no second prompting ; and with 
 the aid of the Irishman, who partially sup 
 ported me for I was still weak I darted 
 down a dark and narrow street. For a 
 short distance we heard the steps of pur 
 suers behind us, but gradually one after 
 another gave up the chase, until at last 
 we found our course left free. 
 
 It would be impossible for me to picture 
 the joy 1 felt at my escape, or my grati 
 tude toward my deliverer. Turning to the 
 Irishman, I seized his hand, while my eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 " Teddy," I said, " you have saved my 
 life, and I shall not soon forget it." 
 
 " Troth, your honor," replied Teddy, 
 with a comical look, " it was wor-r-th pre 
 serving for it's the best and ounly one 
 yees got." 
 
 I said no more, but silently slipped a 
 gold coin into his hand. 
 
 " Howly mother ! how smooth it makes 
 a body's hands to be butthered," observed 
 the Irishman, as he carefully hid the coin 
 in his pocket. 
 
 Deep was the sympathy of Huntly for 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 me, when, arrived at the hotel, I detailed 
 what had occurred in my absence ; and as 
 deep his gratitude to the preserver of my 
 life. 
 
 " Frank," he exclaimed, grasping my 
 hand, "henceforth you go not alone, in 
 the night, in a strange city." 
 
 The next day, though stiff and sore from 
 my bruises, I found myself gliding down 
 the Ohio on a splendid steamer, bound for 
 St. Louis, where, in due time, we all ar 
 rived without accident or event worthy of 
 note. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 \ 
 
 THE PRAIRIE SUNSET SCENE REFLEC 
 TIONS OUtt FIRST CAMP COSTUME 
 
 EQUIPMENTS THE TRAPPERS, ETC. 
 
 THE prairie ! the mighty, rolling, and 
 seemingly boundless prairie ! With what 
 singular emotions I beheld it for the first 
 time ! I could compare it to nothing but a 
 vast sea, changed suddenly to earth, with 
 all its heaving, rolling billows. Thousands 
 upon thousands of acres lay spread before 
 me like a map, bounded by nothing but 
 the deep blue sky. What a magnificent . j 
 sight ! A sight that made my soul expand 
 with lofty thought, and its frail tern -ir^ni 
 sink into utter nothingness before it. Talk 
 of man his power, his knowledge, his' 
 greatness what is he ? A mere worm, an 
 insect, a mote, a nothing, \vhcn brought, in 
 compare with the grand, the sublime in na 
 ture. Go, take the mighty one of cart;; 
 the crimson-robed, diamond-decked mon 
 arch, whose nod is law, and whose arro 
 gant pride tells him he rules the land and 
 sea take him, bring him hither, and place 
 him in the center of this ocean of land 
 far, far beyond the sounds of civilization 
 and what does he become ? Talk to him 
 then of his power, his greatness, his glory; 
 tell him his word is law tc ecmmimd. and 
 he shall be obeyed ; remind him of his 
 treasures, and ten him now to try the 
 power of gold ! What Av.vi;jd be the re 
 sult ? He would deep'ij f>'--! the. mo'-kei-y 
 of your words, and the nothingness of all 
 he oti ce valued ; for, alas ! they would ,'uck 
 the power to guide, to feed, or save him 
 
 from the thousand dangers of the wilder 
 ness. 
 
 Similar ce iluiPe were my thoughts, as 1 
 stood alone, upon a slight rise of ground, 
 and overlooked ;r.i!-.' upon miles of the 
 most lovely, the most sublime scene I had 
 ever beheld. Wave upon wave of land, if 
 I may be allowed the expression, stretched 
 away on every hand, covered with beauti 
 ful, green prairie-grass, and the blooming 
 wild flowers of the wilderness. Afar in 
 the distance I beheld a drove of buffalo 
 quietly grazing ; and in another direction 
 a stampede of wild horses, rushing onward 
 with the velocity of the whirling car of 
 modern days. Nearer me I occasionally 
 caught glimpses of various other animals; 
 while iiocks of birds, of beautiful plumage, 
 skimming over the surface, here and there 
 alighting, or starting up from the earth, 
 gave the enchantment of hfe and variety 
 to the picture. 
 
 It had been a beautiful day, and the su;a 
 was now just burying himself in the far 
 off ocean of blue, and his golden rays were 
 streaming along the surface of the waving 
 grass, and tinging it with a delightful hue. 
 Occasionally some elevated point like the 
 one on which I stood, caught for a moment 
 his fading rays, and shone like a ball of 
 golden tire. Slowly lie took his diurnal 
 farewell as- if loth to quit a scene so 
 lovely and at la: ; .t hid himself fiom my 
 view beyond she western. horizon. Then 
 a bright, golden streak shot up toward the 
 darkenirg dome of heaven, and, wideiiir.t' 
 on cither hand, gradually became sweetly 
 blended whh the cerulean blue. Then 
 this slowly faded, and took a more crim 
 son color ; then more purple ; until, at 
 last, a faint tinge showed the point where 
 the sun had disappeared, while the stars 
 began to appear in the gray vault above. 
 
 1 had stood and marked the whole 
 change with that poetical feeling of plea 
 sant sadness which a beautiful sunset 
 rarely fails to awaken in the breast of the 
 lover of nature. I noted every change thai 
 was going on, and yet my thoughts were 
 for, far away, in my native land. [ was 
 thinking of the hundreds of miles that sep 
 arated me from il e friends that, I loved. I 
 was recalling the delight with which. I had, 
 when a boy, viewed the farewell screes 
 of day from some of the many romautie 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR \V EST. 
 
 hills of old Now England. I pictured the 
 once cheerful home of my parents, which 
 1 had forsaken, and which now peradven- 
 ture was cheerful no longer, in consequence 
 of my absence. I fancied I could see my 
 mother move to the door with a slow step 
 and heavy heart, and gaze with maternal 
 affection toward the broad the mighty west, 
 and sigh, and wonder what had become of 
 him who should have been the stay and 
 support of her declining years. I thought, 
 and I grew more sad as I thought, until 
 tears filled my eyes. 
 
 Mother ! what a world of affection is 
 compressed in that single word ! How lit 
 tle do we, in the giddy round of youthful 
 pleasures and folly, heed her wise coun 
 sels ! How lightly do we look upon that 
 jealous care with which she guides our 
 Otherwise erring feet, and vratches with 
 feelings which none but a mother can 
 know, the gradual expansion of our youth 
 to the riper years of discretion ! We may 
 not think of it then, but it will be recalled 
 to us in after years, when the gloomy 
 grave, or a fearful living separation, has 
 placed her far beyond our reach, and her 
 sweet voice of sympathy and consolation, 
 for the various ill's attendant upon us, 
 Bounds in our ear no more. How deeply 
 then we regret a thousand deeds that we 
 have done contrary to her gentle admoni 
 tions ! How we sigh for those days once 
 ON.ii'e, that we may retrieve what we have 
 done amiss, and make her sweet heart 
 glad with happiness. Alas ! once gone, 
 they can rarely be renewed and we grow 
 mournfully sad with the bitter reflection. 
 
 My mother my dearlj beloved mo 
 therwould I ever behold her again ! 
 Shou ] d 1 ever return to my native land, 
 would I find her among the living ! If 
 net- -if 'i,','.! Heavens! what a sad, what 
 a p'xurfu! thought ! and instantly 1 found 
 my eyes swimming in tears, and my frame 
 trembling with nervous agitation. But I 
 would hope for the best , I wDuld not "bor 
 row trouble ; and gradually I became calm.- 
 Then 1 thought of my father of many 
 other dear friends and, lastly, though I 
 strove to avoid it, I thought of Lilian 
 sweet, lost, but ah ! dearly loved Lilian. 
 I could see her gentle features, I could 
 hear her plaintive voice soft and silvery 
 *s running waters and I sighed, a long, 
 
 deep sigh as I thought. Would I evor 
 behold her again? I might, but (my 
 blood ran cold) but wedded to another. 
 "Ay! wedded to another !" I fairly groaueci 
 aloud, with a start that sent the red cur 
 rent of life swiftly through 7ny veins. 
 
 1 looked around ioe, and iband it already 
 growing dark. The beautiful scene 1 had 
 so lately witnessed, was now faded from 
 my sight ; and the gloomy howl of a dis 
 tant pack of wolves, reminded me that I 
 was now beyond civilization, in the wilder 
 ness of an extensive prairie. I looked 
 downward, and within a hundred yards of 
 me beheld the fire of our first camp on 
 the prairie ; and with a hasty step I de 
 scended the eminence and joined my com 
 panions. 
 
 "Ah ! Frank," said Huntly, as I came 
 up, " I war, beginning to fear something 
 had happened you, and you can easily 
 imagine my feelings. Why did you absent 
 yourself so long ? " 
 
 " I was on yonder eminence, enraptured 
 with the glories of the sunset scene," I 
 replied, somewhat evasively. 
 
 " Ah ! was it not a splendid sight ? " he 
 rejoined, enthusiastically, with sparkling 
 eyes. " I too beheld it with rapture, and 
 regretted that you were not by to sympa 
 thise with me in my poetical feelings. 
 But come, supper is preparing, and so let 
 us regale ourselves at once, and afterward 
 take our fust sl**ep in this magnificent 
 wild." ' '\/ 
 
 As I said before, this was our first camp 
 on the prairie. On our way hither we had 
 joined a party of four hunters or trappers, 
 and in consequence our number was now 
 augmented to seven. We had thrown off . 
 the lighter and more costly apparel of the 
 settlements, and were now costumed in the 
 rougher garments worn by the hunters of 
 the Rocky Mountains. This consisted of 
 a frock or hunting-shirt, made of dressed 
 buckskin, and ornamented with long and 
 parti-colored fringes. Our nether garments 
 were of the same material, ornamented in 
 the same manner, and on our feet were 
 moccasins. Round the waist of each was 
 a belt, supporting a brace of pistols and a 
 long knife, the latter in a sheath made of 
 buffalo hide. A strip of leather passing 
 over our right shoulders, suspended our 
 powder horns 1 and bullet pouches under 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 our left arms. In the latter we can-led 
 flint and stee , and small etceteras of va 
 rious kinds, that had been mentioned as 
 being useful where we procured our tit-out. 
 Among other things, we had taken care to 
 secure plenty of ammunition, tobacco and 
 
 Sipes, together with an extra supply of ap- 
 urel for the cold regions toward which 
 we were journeying, all of which were 
 .igly stowed away in our. large buffalo 
 skin wallets called by the trappers " pos 
 sibles," or " possible sacks " which were 
 either attached to or thrown across our 
 saddles. 
 
 In the description just given, I have 
 been speaking of our party alone namely, 
 Huntly, Teddy and myself without re 
 gard to the trappers, who were costumed 
 and equipped much like ourselves, with the 
 exception that instead of horses their ani 
 mals were mules ; and in place of one 
 apiece, they had three. They, however, 
 were bound on a regular trapping expedi 
 tion, and carried their traps with them, 
 and took along their mules for furs ; while 
 we, going merely on adventure and not 
 speculation, had only taken the animals 
 upon which we rode. Our horses and ap 
 pendages, what we had, were ail of the 
 finest description ; and our long, silver- 
 mounted rifles drew many a wistful look 
 from our newly made companions. In 
 joining them, our chief object was to learn 
 their habits and customs in the wilderness, 
 before we ventured forth upon our own 
 resources ; and by being somewhat liberal 
 in supplying them with tobacco and many 
 small things of great value to the trapper, 
 we secured their friendship and favor at 
 once. 
 
 The trapper of the Rocky Mountains is 
 a singular being. Like the boatman of the 
 river, the sailor of the ocean, or the scout 
 of the forest, he has peculiar characteris 
 tics, both as regards manners and d'alect. 
 Constantly exposed to danger and hardship, 
 he becomes reckless of the one and indiffer 
 ent to the other. His whole life, from be 
 ginning to end. is a constaat succession of 
 perilous adventures ; *^. f l sc. infatuated does 
 lie become with the exciU*nent attendant 
 upon these, that, confine {-..-::: in a settle 
 ment, and he would literd-j' pine to death 
 for his free mountain air md liberty to 
 roam as he lists. 
 
 There is no polish, no sickly, sentimen 
 tal refinement in his manners and conver 
 sation but, on the contrary, all is rude, 
 rough, blunt, and to the point. When he 
 says a thing, he means it ; and, in general, 
 has but little deceit. With death he be 
 comes so familiar, that all fear of the dread 
 king of mortality is lost. True, he oling 
 to life with great tenacity but then there 
 is no whimpering and whining at his fate. 
 When he finds his time has come to go, he 
 stands up like a man, and takes the result 
 with the stoicism of a martyr. He is fre 
 quently a great boaster, and, like the sail 
 or, delights in narrating strange tales of 
 his wonderful advenUires and hairbreadth 
 escapes. In his outward behavior, he is 
 often sullen and morose ; but, as a general 
 thing, his heart is in the right place. He 
 will kill and scalp an Indian foe, with the 
 same indifference and delight that he would 
 shoot a bear or deer and yet you may 
 trust your life and money in his hands with 
 perfect safety. In fact, I may say, that his 
 whole composition is a strange compound 
 of odds and ends of inexplicable incon. 
 gruities of good and evil. 
 
 Until within the last few days, I had 
 never seen a trapper ; and of course he 
 was to me and my companions as great 
 an object of curiosity, as would have been 
 the aborigine himself. The four which we 
 had joined, were genuine, bona fide speci 
 mens of the mountaineers. Each had seen 
 much service, had been more or less upon 
 trapping expeditions, and one had actually 
 grown gray in the hardy life of the wilder 
 ness. Each had trapped on his own account 
 and for others, and had scoured the coun 
 try from the upper regions of Oregon to 
 the Mexican latitude from the States to 
 the Pacific ocean. They were acquainted 
 with the land in every direction knew all 
 the regularly organized fur companies all 
 the trading forts and stations and conse 
 quently wore just the men to initiate us 
 into ali the peculiarities of the wilderness, 
 all the mysteries of the trapper's life, and 
 excite our marvellous propensities by their 
 startling and wonderful tales. They glo 
 ried in the soubriquets of Black George, 
 Rash Will, Fiery Ned, and Daring Tom 
 appellations which had been bestowed on 
 them for some peculiar look in their pri 
 sons, or trait in their characters. 
 
ADVENTURES IT4 TH3 FAR WEST. 
 
 37 
 
 The firat mentioned, Black George, was 
 the eldest of the party, and had doubtles; 
 received his cognomen from his dingy com 
 plexion, which was but little removed from 
 the sable son of Africa. Naturally dark, 
 his skin had become almost black froip 
 long exposure to the weather. In hight 
 he was fully six feet, gaunt and raw-boned, 
 with great breadth of shoulders, ponder 
 ous limbs and powerful muscles, which 
 gave him a very formidable appearance. 
 Although approaching sixty, his vigor 
 seemed not the least impaired by age. 
 His coarse hair, once black, was now an 
 iron gray. His face was thin and long, 
 with high cheek bones, pointed nose, hol 
 low cheeks, large mouth, and cold, gray 
 eyes. The wonted expression of his coun 
 tenance was harsh and repulsive, though 
 occasionally lighted with a humorous, be 
 nevolent smile. He was generally liked 
 and respected by the whites, but hated and 
 feared by the Indians, of whom he was a 
 mortal enemy, that seldom failed to take 
 their " hair "* whenever opportunity pre 
 sented. 
 
 The next in order, Rash Will, as he 
 was denominated, was a stout, heavy built 
 nwn, somewhat above the medium stature, 
 and about forty years of age. He had a 
 large Roman nose and mouth, thick lips, 
 low forehead, and blue eyes. The gen 
 eral expression of his physiognomy was a 
 blunt, straight-forwardness, without regard 
 to consequences. He could do a good 
 de*d or an evil one ; and if he could jus 
 tify the latter to himself, he cared not a 
 straw for the opinions of others. Head 
 strong and violent when excited by anger, 
 he had been the author 'of some dark deeds 
 among the savages, which fully entitled 
 him to the appellation of Rash Will. 
 
 The third in order, Fiery Ned, was about 
 tl.irty-five years of age, of a robust, hand 
 some form, some five feet ten inches in 
 hight, and fully developed in every part. 
 His features were comely and prepossess 
 ing. The only marked points of his coun 
 tenance were his eyes which were small, 
 black, restless, and piercing and his fore 
 head, which was high and ample. His 
 temperament was ardent, passionate, and 
 6ery. At times he was cool, frank and 
 
 Scalp. 
 
 generous ; but at others, especially in an 
 Indian fight, he became wild, furious, and, 
 in short, a perfect devil. 
 
 The last of the four, Daring Tom, was 
 the youngest and the most to my liking of 
 any. He was about thirty years of age, 
 and of middling stature. Unlike his com 
 panions, his features were very fine, almost 
 effeminate, with a mild, dignified expres 
 sion, that instantly won the regard of all 
 with whom he came in contact. He had 
 a large, full, clear blue eye, which rarely 
 varied in expression, be the circumstances 
 what they might. Cool and collected at 
 all times, he was never more so than when 
 surrounded by imminent danger. There 
 was no risk he would not run to serve 
 a friend, and on no occasion had he ever 
 been known to display the least sign of 
 fear hence was he called Daring Tom. 
 
 Such is an outline sketch of the trappers 
 who had now become our companions ; 
 and probably, take us all together, there 
 was not, in the whole broad West, another 
 party of the same number, that could pre 
 sent a more formidable appearance, or per 
 form greater feats in the heat of contest. 
 
 At the moment when I came up to the 
 fire, each of the trappers was seated beside 
 it on the ground, cross-legged, engaged in 
 toasting slices of a fat buck, which one of 
 them had killed and brought in not an hour 
 before. They were talking away briskly 
 all the while, telling some wonderful tale, 
 or cracking some joke, to the great amuse 
 ment of Teddy O'Lagherty, who, a little 
 apart, was seated in a similar manner to 
 themselves, and listening attentively, with 
 mouth and eyes widely distended. A little 
 distance from the fire, our hopled animals 
 were quietly cropping the luxuriant herb 
 age beneath them. 
 
 " So then, Charley," I said, after having 
 taken a general survey, " I suppose we are 
 to fatten on deer meat ? " 
 
 " Deer meat and salt," he replied, with 
 a laugh. " The fancy preparations of civ 
 ilization will regale us no longer, and we 
 
 O O ' 
 
 may be thankful if we always get fare as 
 
 od as this." 
 
 While saying this, Huntly had drawn 
 nearer the fire, so that the last remark 
 caught the ear of Black George, who was 
 just on the point of enforcing some asser 
 tion with an oath, but who suddenly stopped 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 short, and turned to him with a comical 
 look. 
 
 " See heyar, young chap, didn't T hearn 
 you say you was from Bosson, or some 
 dch place in the Stales ?" 
 
 "Doubtless," answered Huivly, " for 
 that, I am proud to say, is my native city." 
 
 " 0, it's a citv. then. Bi^'s St. Louey, 
 hey?" 
 
 " Much larger." 
 
 " Do say. Why then it's some, 1 reck 
 ons." 
 
 " A very flourishing place." 
 
 " Hum ! You was born to Bosson ? " 
 
 "Ay, and bred there." 
 
 "Bread? O, that means you was fod 
 dered thar, spose ? " 
 
 " Yes, brought up and educated there." 
 
 " Edicated augy ! Heyar's what never 
 did that; never had no need on't ; know 
 how to shoot and trap, but can't make pot 
 hooks ; can't tell 'em when they is made ; 
 know they's some, though, and wouldn't 
 mind I know'd 'em a few but don't care 
 much no how ; couldn't live no longer for't ; 
 couldn't ' float my sticks '* no better, spect. 
 Well, for a yoxmker, you've had a right 
 smart chance, and I spose know a heap.f 
 Heyar's what's born way down to Ark-an- 
 saw, on a swamp patch, that didn't yield 
 nothin worth divin for. I's raised down 
 thar, or bread, as you calls it, young Bos- 
 son, (spose you've got no objection to beirr 
 called arter your natyve city) though al 
 mighty poor bread I was, for I didn't git 
 much on't for a spell in fact till I'd near 
 ly gone under* augh ! Let's see, whar 
 -was I? 0, you's saying sumthin 'bout 
 bein thankful forsich fare's tin's. It tickled 
 me a heap it did and I had to in'ardly 
 hold on tight to my ribs, to keep from guf 
 fawing. Why, young Bossoners, ( address 
 ing both of us) ef you'd seeii what I hev, 
 a piece like that thar, (pointing to the meat 
 
 * That is, couldn't get aloiiff any bolter. This 
 Se a common e\pres>iou iimonjj the trappers, and 
 its moulting depends altogether upon the sense in 
 which it is used. It is derived from their occu 
 pation. A "stick" is attached to each trip by a 
 string, and if the beaver runs away with the trap, 
 k, floating on the surface of the WM-T, in 
 dicates the whereabouts of the animal, and enables 
 the trapper to recover his property. 
 
 + A western word, equivalent to " very much." 
 t Diod another expression peculiar to the trap- 
 
 poT 
 
 
 on the end of his stick, which he was toast 
 ing at the fire, \ would a bin a heaven on 
 arth, and no mistake. Talk about beia 
 thankful for sich tare's this ! Wait till 
 you've seen your hoss go under, and the 
 lyst end o' the eatable part o' your possi 
 bles chawed up, and then talk." 
 
 Here the old man paused and chuckled 
 heartily, and winked at his companions, 
 who joined him in his merriment, to the 
 utter consternation of poor Teddy, who, 
 with mouth -wide open, and eyes enlarged 
 to their utmost capacity, simply exclaimed: 
 
 " Howly murther ! what a baastly time 
 on't yees had ! " 
 
 " I suppose you have seen some very 
 rough times ? " I rejoined, anxious to draw 
 the old man out in some of his wonderful 
 tales of adventure. 
 
 "Well I has, hoss," was the quick re 
 sponse: "and ef you want to make folks 
 stare in the States, you'd better jest jog 
 down one I've a notion to tell." 
 
 " We shall all be eager listeners," I re 
 joined. 
 
 " Think you'd like to hear it, hey ? " 
 
 " 0, most certainly." 
 
 The old man smiled complacently, and 
 stroked his beard of a day's growth, in a 
 way to denote that he felt himself some 
 what complimented. 
 
 " Got any bacca ? " 
 
 I gave him a large piece. 
 
 " Well, plant yourselves down here in 
 talking distance, and while this deer meat's 
 sizzling, I'll tell you a trump, and an ace 
 at thai." 
 
 Huiuly and myself at once seated our 
 selves upon the ground, as near the old 
 man as possible, who, giving the weed a 
 tew extra turns in his mouth, began the 
 tale which I give in the following chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THK OLD TRAPPEK'S TALE ATTACK ON HIM 
 
 BY THE INDIANS HIS ESCAPE THE DEAD 
 
 PURSUER SUFFERINGS THE MTSTERIOUi 
 
 PKAIKIE FLOWER, ETC. 
 
 " YE see, strangers," said the old man, 
 " or Bossonersj (though I spect it don't 
 make no pertikelar dif'rence what I calls 
 ye, so it don't hurt your feelins none,) as 
 
ADVE.NTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 I sez afore, I was raised down to Arkan- 
 saw, or tharabouts, and it's nigh on to 
 sixty year now sence I fust tuk a center- 
 shot at daylight, and in course I've forgot 
 all the feelins a fust sight gin me. How- 
 Boniever, that's nothin here nor tother. 
 (I say Will, ef you've got that thar bottle 
 about you, I doesn't mind a taste, jest to 
 grease this her3 bacca augh ! Thankee, 
 Will ; you're some, you is.) 
 
 "Well, strangers, you needn't 'spect 
 I'm agoiu to gin ye my whole hist'ry, case 
 I isn't, and don't know's I could ef I waul 
 ed to, case most on't's forgot. So now I'll 
 jest jump over a cord o' lime, and come 
 down to 'bout four year ago come next 
 Feberry, when it was so all-fired cold, it 
 froze icykels on to the star rays, and stop 
 ped 'era comin down ; and the sun froze so 
 he couldn't shine ; and the moon didn't git 
 up at all, she didn't ; and this here arth 
 was as dark nor a stack o' chowdered nig 
 gers." 
 
 Here the Irishman, unable to stand it 
 longer, roared out : 
 
 " Howly saints ! ye're not spaking truth, 
 now, Misther. Black George?" 
 
 " Aint I, though ?" answered the old 
 trapper, gravely, slyly tipping the wink to 
 one of his companions. " D'ye think I'd 
 lie 'bout it ? You remember the time, 
 Will ? " 
 
 "Well I does, hoss," replied Will, with 
 a grin. 
 
 ' In course ye does, and so does every 
 body that know'd anything 'bout it. I 
 may hev exaggerted a leetle 'bout the 
 stars and them things, but I jest tell ye 
 what was fact and no mistake, and I'll be 
 dog-gone ef I doesn't stake my v'racity on 
 it's being true's preachin ! " 
 
 Here the old man made a pause. 
 
 " Well, well, go on ! " cried I. 
 
 "Ay, ay ! " echoed Huntly. 
 
 "Well," said Black George, "a leetle 
 drap more o' that critter jest a taste 
 case the truth makes me so infernal dry, 
 you can't tell. Augh ! thankee (return 
 ing th* 1 bottle) feel myself agin now. 
 But let's see, whar was I ? " 
 
 " You were speaking about the wea 
 ther." 
 
 "So I was ; that's a fact ; I'll be dog 
 gone ef I wasn't ! Well, as I's sayin, it 
 got so cold that when you /"browed water ( 
 
 up in the air, it all froze afore it coutd git 
 down, and acterly had to stay thar, case 
 it froze right on to the atmospheric." 
 
 "On to what?" 
 
 " The atmospheric." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " You doesn't know what atmospheric 
 is ? Well, I'll be dog-gone ef I'm goin 
 to 'lighten nobody ; much's 1 ken do tc 
 understand for myself. But I knows the 
 water froze to that article, for that's what 
 I hearn a schollard call it, and I reckon 
 he knowed a heap any how." 
 
 "Well, well, the story," cried I. 
 
 " Yes, well, I haint got through tellm 
 how cold it was yit. Not only the water 
 froze to the atmospheric, but the animals 
 as used to run o' nights all quit the busi 
 ness, and you could walk right up to one 
 and pat him han'some ; case why his 
 eye-sight was all froze right up tight to 
 his head. Fact 1 I'll be dog-gone ef it 
 wasn't ! 
 
 "Well, I'd bin out a trappin, and had 
 made a purty good lick at it, and was com 
 in down to Bent's Fort, to make a lounge 
 for the winter leastwise for what was 
 left on't when jest as I crossed Cherry 
 Creek, after having left the So the Platte, 
 I wish I may be smashed, ef I didn't see 
 'bout a dozen cussed Rapahos (Arrapa- 
 hoes) coming toward me on bosses, as ef 
 old Nick himself was arter 'em. I looked 
 around me, and darned o' a thing could I 
 see but snow and ice and the snow was 
 froze so hard that the bosses' and muleys' 
 feet didn't make no impression on't. I 
 was all alone, boss-back, with three good 
 muleys, all packed han'some, for Jim Da 
 vis him as traveled with me and Andy 
 Forsker, another chap that made our par 
 tyhad gone round another way, jest for 
 fear o' them same painted heathen as was 
 now comin up. But ye see I'd bin bolder 
 nor them, and now I was a-goin to pay 
 for't, sartin ; for I seed by thar looks, they 
 was bound to 'raise my hair'* ef I didn't 
 do somethin for my country quicker. 1 
 looked all around me, and thought I was 
 a gone beaver fast enough. I had a purty 
 good hoss under me, and I knowed he 
 only could save me, and a mighty slim 
 chance he'd have on't at that. Howsom- 
 
 * Take my scalp 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 ever. I reckoned it wasn't best to say die 
 ef I could live, and I didnt' like the notion 
 o' bein ' rubbed out '* by sich a dog-gone 
 scriraptious lookin set o' half humans as 
 them thar Rapahos. I cast around me, 
 and seed that old Sweetlove, (rifle) am' 
 IHT pups, (pistols) and my butchers, 
 (knife and tomahawk) was all about ; and 
 so J jest swore I'd set my traps and make 
 oin- on 'em ' come,' ef I ' went a woltin' 
 for it. 
 
 "I sauf thar was 'bout a dozen maybe 
 m<>re nn 1 they was ticklin thar bosses' 
 ribs migluy han'some, you'd better believe, 
 and a-comm for me with a parfect loose 
 ness, every one on 'em carryin a bow, and 
 every bow bent with an arrer in it. I 
 knowed my muleys was gone, sartin, and 
 all my traps and furs ; but jest then I felt 
 so all -tired mad, that I thought ef I could 
 throw a couple, I wouldn't care a kick. 
 So instead o' trying to run away, I hollered 
 ' Whoa ' to the animals, and waited for the 
 redskins to come up. (Jest a drap more 
 o' that, Rash, ef you please ; for this here 
 hoss is as dry to-night as a dog-worried 
 skunk. 
 
 " Well, on they comes, thunderin away 
 like a newly invented arthquake, and I 
 'spected for sartin I was a gone beaver. 
 Jest afore they got up so as they could let 
 thar shafts riddle me, the infernal cowards, 
 seein as how I didn't budge, had the ou- 
 daciousness to come to a halt, and stare at 
 me as ef I was a kangaroo. I. raised 
 Sweetlove, and told her to tell 'em I's 
 about, and 'some in a bar fight.' She an 
 swered right han'some, did Sweetlove, and 
 down the for'ard one d rapped right purty, 
 he did. Well, this sot the rest on 'em in 
 a rage, and afore I knowed it, they was all 
 round me, yell in like the old Scratch. 
 Half a dozen shafts come hissin through 
 my buckskins, and two on 'em stuck right 
 in my meat- bag, and made me feel all over 
 in spots like a Guinea nigger. Instanter 
 I pulled out Sweetlove's pups, and set 'em 
 to barkin, and two more o' the humans 
 drapped down to see how the snow felt. 
 Knowin' it wasn't no use to be foolin my 
 time, I jeiked the ropes, and told Skinflint 
 to travel afore my hair was raised, leavin 
 tke muleys to do what they liked. 
 
 Rifled. 
 
 " Seein me a-goin, the oudacious Rapa- 
 hos thought they'd stop me ; but I rid right 
 through 'em purty, and got another arrer 
 in m- back for it. 
 
 " Arter I'd got away, I looked round and 
 seed two on 'em a-comin like all possessed, 
 with their lariats doubled for a throw. I 
 knowed ef they got near enough, I'd be 
 snaked off like a dead nigger, and my hair 
 raised afore I could say Jack Robinson 
 Maybe I didn't ax Skinflint to dc his purti- 
 est, and maybe he didn't, hey ! Why he 
 left a trail o' tire behind him, as he went 
 over that frozen snow, that looked for all 
 nater like a streak o' big lightnin. But it 
 didn't seem to be o' no use ; for the infer 
 nal scamps come thunderin on, jest about 
 so fur behind, and I seed thar bosses was 
 all o' the right stuff. The sun was about 
 a two hour up, and thar he stayed, he did ; 
 for it was so almighty cold, as I said afoi-e, 
 he couldn't get down to hide. 
 
 "Well, on we run, and run, and run, 
 till the bosses smoked and puffed like a 
 Massassip steamer, and still we run. I 
 made tracks as nigh as I could calculoto 
 for the mountains, in the direction of Pike'u 
 Peak, and on we went, as ef old Brira 
 stone was arter us. I calculated my chasers 
 'ud git tired and gin in ; but they was the 
 real grit, and didn't seem to mind it. At 
 last they begun to gain on me, and I 
 knowed from the 'signs' o' Skinflint, thyt 
 he'd have to go under, sure's guns, ef I 
 didn't come to a rest purty soon. You'd 
 better believe I felt queer jest then, and 
 thought over all my sins, with the arrers 
 sticking in my belly and back like all git 
 out. I tried to pray ; but I'd never larnt 
 no prayers when a pup, and now I was too 
 old a dog to ketch new tricks ; besides, it 
 was so all-fired cold, that my thoughts 
 stuck in my head like they was pinned 
 thar with icykels. I'd been chased afore 
 by the Comanches and Blackfoot, by the 
 Pawnees and Kickapoos, by the Crows 
 and Chickasaws, but I'd never had sich 
 fcelins as now. The short on't is, boys, I 
 was gittin the squaw into me, and I knowed 
 it ; but I'll be dog-gone ef I cculd help it, 
 to save my hair, that stood up so stiff and 
 straight as to raise my hat and let the 
 atmospheric in about a feet. I was gittin 
 outrageous cold, too, and could feel my 
 I heart pwmpin up icykels by the sack full, 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE PAR WEST. 
 
 31 
 
 ami I knowed death was about sartain as 
 daylight. 
 
 " 'Well,' sez I to myself, 'old hoss, 
 VOU'VP got to go under and lose your top 
 knot, so what's the use a kickin ?' 
 
 " 'Howsomever,' I answered, 'sposin I 
 has, I reckon's best to die game, ain't it ?' 
 and with this I pulled old Sweetlove round 
 and commenced fodderin her as best I 
 could. She knowed what was wanted, did 
 Sweetlove, and looked right sassy, I'll be 
 dog-gone ef she didn't. 
 
 " 'You're a few, aint you ?' sez I, as I 
 rammed home an all-fired charge of pow 
 der, that made her grunt like forty. 
 
 "Well, I turned round, fetched her up 
 to my face, and 'drawin a bead'* on to 
 the nearest, pulled the trigger. 
 
 " Now you needn't believe it without ye 
 take a notion, but I'll be rumfuzzled (stir 
 that fire, Ned, or this here meat won't 
 git toasted till midnight), ef she didn't 
 hold shoot about a minnet, and I all the 
 time squintin away too, afore the fire could 
 melt the ice round the powder and let her 
 off. That's a fact ! I'll be dog-gone ef it 
 wasn't ! 
 
 "Well, she went off at last, she did, 
 with a whoosss-k cheeesss-cup cho-bang, 
 and 1 hope I may be dogged for a possum, 
 ef one o' my chasers didn't hev to pile 
 himself on a level with his moccasin right 
 ban some. Now I thought as how this 'ud 
 start the wind out o' t'other, and put him 
 on the back'ard track. But it didn't. He 
 did'nt seem to mind it no more'n's ef it 
 was the commonest thing out. 
 
 "'Well,' thinks 1 to myself, 'maybe 
 you'll ketch a few ef you keep foolin your 
 time that-a-ways ;' and so 1 set to work 
 and foddered Sweetlove agin. 
 
 "By this time poor Skinflint, I seed, 
 was gittin top-heavy right smart, and I 
 knowed ef I done anything, it 'ud hev to 
 be done afore the beginnin o' next month, 
 01 'twouldn't b<> o' no use, not a darned 
 bit. Well, I took squint agin, plum-center, 
 and blazed away ; but hang me up for 
 Dar's meat, ef it made the least difference 
 with the skunk of a Rapaho. I was par- 
 feet dumfouzled ; complete used up ; for 
 I'd never missed a target o' that size afore, 
 ence I was big enough to shoot pop-guns 
 
 'Taking close sight. 
 
 to flies. I felt sort o' chawed up. Never 
 felt so ail of a heap afore but once't, and 
 that was when I axed Suke Harris to hev 
 me, and she said 'No.' 
 
 " Now you'd better calculate I hadn't 
 no great deal o' time to think, for thar he 
 was the cussed Injin jest as plain as 
 the nose on your face, and a-comin full 
 split right at me, with his rope quirled in 
 his hand, jest ready for a throw. Quicker 
 as winkin, I foddered Sweetlove agin, and 
 gin him another plum-center, which in 
 course I spected would knock the hind 
 sights off him. Did it ? Now you ken 
 toke my possibles, traps and muleys, ef it 
 did. Did it ? No ! reckons it didn't. Thar 
 he sot, straight up and down, a thunderin 
 on, jest as ef the arth was made for his 
 special purpose. I begun to git skeered 
 in arnest, and thought maybe it was the 
 devil deformed into a Injin ; and I'd a no 
 tion to put in a silver bullet, only I didn't 
 happen to have none 'bout me. 
 
 " On he come, the scamp, and I bolted 
 or tried to rayther for Skinflint had 
 got used up, and down he pitched, sending 
 me right plum over his noddle on to my 
 back, whar I lay sprawlin like a bottle o' 
 spilt whisky. 
 
 '"It's all up now, and I'm a gone pos 
 sum,' sez I, as I seed the Injin come tearin 
 ahead ; and I drawed the old butcher, and 
 tried to feed one o' the pups, but my fin 
 gers was so numb I couldn't. 
 
 " Well up rides old Rapaho, lookin as 
 savage nor a meat-axe, his black eyes 
 shinin like two coals o' fire. Well now, 
 what d'ye think he did ? Did he shoot me ? 
 No ! Did he rope (lassoo) me ? No ! Did 
 he try to ? No, I'll be dog-gone ef he did!" 
 
 " What did he do ? " inquired I, quickly. 
 
 " Ay, ay, what did he do ? " echoed 
 Huntly. 
 
 " Howly Mary ! if ye knows what he 
 did, Misther George, spaak it, jist, and re- 
 lave yer mind now, " put in the Irishman. 
 
 The old trapper smiled. 
 
 "Rash," he said, " ef that thar bottle 
 isn't empty, I'll jest take another pull. " 
 
 " Taint all gone yit," answered Rash 
 Will ; " 'spect 'twill be soon ; but go it, 
 old hoss, and gin us the rest o' that .1 
 Rapahos affair." 
 
 The old man drank, smacked his lips, 
 smiled, and remarked : 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 " How comfortable deer meat smells. " 
 
 " But the Rapaho/' cried I, " what did 
 IIP do ? " 
 
 "Do!" answered Black George, with 
 a singular expression that I could not de- 
 tine : "Do ! why he rid up to my hoss and 
 stopped, he did ; and didn't do nothin 
 else, he didn't." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Case he was done for." 
 
 " Dead ? " 
 
 " As dog meat augh ! " 
 
 " All ! you had killed him.then?" cried I. 
 
 " No I hadn't though. " 
 
 " What then ? '" 
 
 " He'd died himself, Ke had." 
 
 "How, died ?" 
 
 " Froze, young Bossons froze as stiff 
 nor a white oak. " 
 
 _" Froze ! " echoed two or three voices, 
 mine among the rest. 
 
 " Yes, blaze my old carcass and send 
 me a wollin, ef he hadn't ! and I, like a 
 
 fool, had been runnin away from a 
 
 dead nigger. Maybe I did'nt swear some, 
 andj^ay a few thataint spoke in the pulpit. 
 You'd jest better believe, strangers, I felt 
 soft as a chowdered possum." 
 
 "But how had he followed you if he 
 was dead ? " 
 
 " He hadn't, not pertikerlarly ; but his 
 hoss had ; for in course he didn't know his 
 rider was rubbed out ; and so he kept on 
 arter mine, till the divin o' old Skinflint 
 fetched him up a-standin." 
 
 "Of course you were rejoiced at your 
 escape ? " 
 
 " Why, sort o' so, and sort o' not; for I 
 felt so all-fired mean, to think I'd bin run 
 nin from and shootin to a dead Injin, that 
 for a long spell 1 couldn't git wind enough 
 to say nothin. 
 
 "At last I sez, sez I, ' This here's purty 
 business now, aint it ? I reckons, old bea 
 ver, you've had little to do, to be foolin 
 your time and burnin your powder this 
 way ; ' and then I outs with old butcher, 
 and swore I'd raise his hair. 
 
 " Well, I coaxed my way up to his old 
 hoss, and got hold on himself; but it wasn't 
 a darned bit o' use ; he was froze tight to 
 the saddle. I tried to cut into him, but 
 Til be dog-gone ef my kuife ud enter 
 more'n 'twould into a stcr.e. Jest then 
 \ luk a look round, and may I be rum- 
 
 boozled, ef the sun hadn't got thawed a 
 leetle, and, arter strainin so hard, had gone 
 down with a jump right behind a big ridge. 
 
 " ' Well,' sez 1, ' this nigger'd betterbe 
 making tracks somewhar, or he'll spile, 
 sure.' 
 
 "So wishin old Rapaho a pleasant time 
 on't I tried Skinflint, but ^ndin it wasn't 
 no go, X gathered up sieh things from my 
 possibles as I couldn't do without, pulled 
 the arrers out o' me, and off I sot for a 
 ridge 'bout five mile away. 
 
 "When I got thar, it was so dark you 
 couldn't tell a tree from a nigger ; and the 
 wind phe-ew ! it blowed so one time 
 that I had to hitch on to a rock to keep 
 myself any whar. I tried to strike a fire, 
 but my fingers was so cold I couldn't, and 
 the snow had kivered up every tiling, so 
 that thar wasn't nothin to make it on. 
 
 " ' It's a screech er,' I sez, to myself, 
 ' and afore daylight I'll be rubbed out, 
 sartin.' 
 
 " At last I begun to feel so queer, and 
 so sleepy I couldn't hardly keep open my 
 peepers. I knowed ef I laid down and 
 slept, I was a gone beaver ; and so stum- 
 blin about, I got hold o' a tree, and begun 
 to climb ; and when I got up high enough, 
 I slid down agin ; and you'd better believe 
 this here operation felt good ef it didn't 
 I wouldn't tell ye so. 
 
 " The whole blessed night I worked in 
 this way, and it blowin, and snowin, amd 
 freezin all the time like sixty. At h,st 
 mornin come, but it was a darned long 
 time about it, and arter I'd gin in tlat 
 daylight wasn't no whar. 
 
 " Well, soon's I could see, off I sot, amd 
 traveled, and traveled, I didn't know 
 which way nor whar, till night had come 
 agin, and I hadn't seen nothin human 
 and besides, I'd eat up all my fodder. I 
 tried to shoot somethin, but I'll be dogged 
 ef thar was any varmints to shoot o' no 
 kind they was all froze up tighter nor 
 darnation. 
 
 " That night went like w. ther, in rubbin 
 a tree ; and the next day I sot on agin, and 
 traveled till night, without eatin a bit o' 
 food. I had a leetle bacca, and that 1 
 chawed like all git out, until I'd chawed il 
 all up, and begun to think I was chawed 
 up myself. I'd got, though, whar 1 could 
 find a few sticks, and I made a fire, and 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 33 
 
 tt'd a jest done ye good to seen the way I 
 sot to it. 
 
 " The next mornin I put on agin, but 
 I'd got so powerful weak, that I rolled 
 round like I'd been spilin a quart. Night 
 come agin, and I'd got worse tangled up 
 nor ever, and didn't know the piht o' com 
 pass from a buffler's tail. 
 
 "' WeH, it's all up with this here coon,' 
 T sez ; ' and so what's the use o' tryin ? 
 Might as well die now as when I've got 
 more sins to count ; ' and so givin old 
 Svveetlove a smack, and tellin her to be a 
 o-ood gal, I keeled over as nateral as shoot- 
 in. I looked up'ard, and seed a bright 
 star that 'ud just thawed its way down, 
 and thinkin maybe I'd be thar soon, I gin 
 in and shut my peepers, as I spected for 
 the last time. 
 
 " How long I laid thar I never knowed, 
 and never spect to ; but when I seed day 
 light agin, I found this here hoss in a In- 
 jin lodge, somewhar about, and tickle me 
 with a pitch pine-knot ef I ever knowed 
 exactly whar for I forgot to 'blaze'* the 
 place, and couldn't never find it agin. At 
 fust, in course, I thought I was in the oth 
 er country folks tells about ; and Chinks I, 
 I've bin stuck among the Injins, jest to 
 punish me for raisin so much hair while 
 on the arth. I begun to git skeered, I tell 
 ye ; but it wasn't long afore I seed a sight 
 that made it seem like Heaven anyhow 
 leastwise I felt perfectly willin to be pun 
 ished that way etarnally, I did. (I say, 
 Bosson, got any more bacca ? This here 
 travels like a May frost.") 
 
 as I hastily supplied him with the desired 
 
 article. 
 
 " See, sposin you guess now. 
 
 You're 
 
 what they calls Yankee, and ort to guess 
 any thing."' 
 
 "0, I could not guess it, I am satis 
 fied." 
 
 " I can now," said the Irishman. 
 
 " Well, Teddy, out with it." 
 
 " Why, he saan a bothel o' whisky, in 
 course ; what else should he sae to make 
 him happy all of a sudden ? " 
 
 A roar of laughter followed this witty 
 
 To " blaze *' a tree is to mark it with an axe, 
 or in some way, so that it can be identified. A 
 ' blazed path " is one so marked throughout. 
 
 3 
 
 reply, in which Black George good hu- 
 moredly joined. 
 
 "Well, you is some at guessin, you is,"' 
 replied the old trapper ; but you didn't 
 quite hit it, hoss. I say, strangers, what's 
 the purtiest sight you ever seed on the 
 arth?" 
 
 " A beautiful female," I replied. 
 
 " Well, that's jest what I seen. I seed 
 afore me a critter in the shape o' a gal, 
 that was the most purty I ever drawed 
 bead on." 
 
 " A beautiful girl ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, stranger, she wasn't nothin else, 
 she wasn't I'll be dog-gone ef she was ! " 
 
 " Describe her ! " 
 
 " Jest describe a angel, and you've got 
 her to a T ef you haven't, why was bea 
 vers growed? that's all." 
 
 "Who was she?" 
 
 " Well now, hoss, you're gittin into the 
 picters, and headin off this old coon right 
 center. I never knowed who she was, 
 unless she was a sperit for I'll be dog 
 gone ef ever I seed any thing half as de 
 cent 'bout a Injin." 
 
 " Can you not describe her ? " 
 
 " Describe thunder ! Why she was the 
 tallest specimen of a human as ever sp'ilt 
 par-flesh of buffler, she was. She had 
 long hair, black as a nigger in a thunder 
 cloud ; and eyes black too ; and so large 
 and bright you could see to shave in 'em 
 as easy as trappin. And then sich a face ! 
 well that was a face, now, or I wouldn't 
 tell ye so. It kept puttin me in mind o' 
 summer weather and persimmons, it was 
 
 " Well, what did you see ? " I inquired, <, S o almighty warm and sweet lookin. 0, 
 
 T t i * 1 I'll- , 1 jl I " 1 O / 
 
 sich a nose sich lips sich teeth and, 
 heavens and arth ! sich a smile ! (A drop 
 more, Will, for this child's mouth's gittia 
 watery a thinkin, and that meat looks like 
 feedin time." 
 
 " Why, now, you have raised my curi 
 osity to the highest point," I said, "and 
 so I must have the rest of the story forth 
 with." 
 
 " Boys often git thar curiosity raised 
 out here-aways, and thar hair too some 
 times," replied the old hunter, coolly, tak 
 ing his meat off the stick and commencing 
 to eat. 
 
 " But you're going to finish your story 
 George ? " queried Huntly, quickly. 
 
 "Why, I spect I'll hev to; but l'I 
 
34 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 make it short ; for I never likes to talk 
 much 'bout that gal ; I al'ays feel so much 
 all overish, I can't tell ye how." 
 
 "Perhaps you got in love with her," 
 returned Huntly, jocosely. 
 
 Tho old trapper suddenly paused, with 
 the meat half way to his mouth, and turn 
 ed upon my friend with a frown and gleam 
 ing eyes. 
 
 " Look heyar, boy," he said, "you didn't 
 mean to insult this child, I reckon ? " 
 
 " Far from it," answered Hunliy, quick 
 ly. "I only spoke in jest, and crave par 
 don if I offended." 
 
 " 'Twon't do to jest about everything, 
 young chap, case thar is spots as won't 
 bear rub bin. Howsomever, I sees you 
 didn't mean nothin, and so I'll not pack 
 it. Talkin of love ! Now I doesn't know 
 much 'bout the article, though I've seed 
 nigh sixty year, and never was spliced to 
 no gal ; but I'll tell you what 'tis, Bosson, 
 ef I'd bin thirty year younger, ef I hadn't 
 made tracks with that 'ar gal, and hitched, 
 then call me a nigger and let me spile." 
 
 " How old was she ? " I asked. 
 
 " Jest old enough to be purty, she 
 was." 
 
 " But how had she found you so oppor 
 tunely?" 
 
 " That's whar I'm fooled ; for though I 
 axed her, and she told me, I'll be dog-gone 
 
 O O 
 
 ef I wasn't thinkin how purty she looked 
 when she talked, and let the whole on't 
 slip me like tryin to throw a buffler with a 
 greased rope. All I could ever ketch on't 
 was, that she, or some other Tnjin, or some 
 body else, come across me, and tuk me in, 
 did up my scratches, and fetched me sen 
 sible. She said she was purty much of. a 
 beaver among the Injins, and could do 
 'bout as she tuk a notion ; but that ef I 
 wanted my hair, I'd better be leavin right 
 smartly, or maybe I'd be made meat of 
 tugh ! 
 
 " Well, arter it come dark, she packed 
 some fodder for me, and acterly went her 
 self along and seed me through the camp 
 for it wasn't a reg'lar village of Injins no 
 tow. 
 
 " ' What tribe's this ? ' I axed, arter I'd 
 got ready to quit. 
 
 " ' That you musn't know,' she scz. 
 Ax no questions, but set your face that- 
 -irays, and keep your nose afore ye till 
 
 daylight, and don't come heyar agin, os 
 
 you're dead nigger." 
 
 "'But ef you won't tell this child the 
 Injins, tell me who you is ! " 
 
 " ' I'm called Leni-Leoti, or Perrarie- 
 Flower,',sez she ; and then afore I could 
 say, ' 0, you is hey! ' she turned anl put 
 back like darnation. 
 
 " I'd a great notion to fuller her, and I 
 cussed myself arterwards case I didn't; 
 but I spect I was feelin green then, and 
 so I did jest as she told me ef I didn't, 
 I wish I may be dogged ! When, it come 
 mornin, I looked all round, and concluded 
 I was on tother side of the ' Divide.' So 
 ! I tuk si new track, and arter many days' 
 j travel, fetched up in Brown's Hole, whar I 
 found lots of trappers, and spent the win 
 ter augh ! Now don't ax no more, for 
 you've got all this hoss is agoin to tell ; 
 for the whisky's out, the bacca's low, this 
 coon's hungered, and the meat's a spilin." 
 
 Here, sure enough, the old trapper came 
 to a pause ; and although I felt a deep in 
 terest to know more about the singular 
 being he had described, Prairie-Flower, I 
 saw it would be useless to question him 
 further. The conversation now turned up 
 on trivial affairs, in which neither Huntly 
 nor myself took much interest. We felt 
 wearied and hungry ; and so after regaling 
 ourselves on toasted deer meat, without 
 bread, and only a little salt, and having 
 seen our animals driven in and picketed 
 that is, fastened to a stake in the ground, 
 by a long lariat or rope of skin, so that 
 they could feed in a circle \ve threw our 
 selves upon the earth around the fire, and, 
 with no covering but our garments and 
 the broad canopy of heaven, brilliantly 
 studded with thousands on thousands of 
 stars, slept as sweetly and soundly as ever 
 we did in a thick-peopled settlement., 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MORNING SCENE CONVERSATION BOTH I* 
 
 LOVE LUDICKOUS MISTAOI OLD FEEir 
 
 INGS TOUCHED INTERKt'ETICX. 
 
 AT the first tinge of day bicj-k on tho 
 following morning, I sprang to my feet, 
 and rousing Huntly, we stole quietly from 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 the circle of sleeping trappers, and took 
 our way to the eminence from which I had 
 viewed the farewell of day the evening pre 
 vious. It was a splendid morning, and the 
 air, clear, soft and balmy, was not stirred 
 by a single zephyr. As we ascended the 
 knoll and looked toward the east, we could 
 barely perceive a faint blush indicating the 
 rosy d iwn of day, while a soft, gray light 
 spread sweetly over the scene, and the stars, 
 growing less and less bright, gradually be 
 gan to disappear from our view. Presently 
 the blush of morn took a deeper hue, and 
 gently expanding on either hand, blended 
 beautiful ly with the deepening blue. Then 
 golden flashes shot upward, growing bright 
 er and brighter, till it seemed as if the world 
 were on tire ; while night, slowly receding, 
 gradually revealed the lovely prairie to our 
 enchanted gaze. Brighter, more golden, 
 more beautiful grew the east, and brighter 
 
 o ' O 
 
 the light around us, until the stars had all 
 become hidden, and objects far and near 
 could be distinctly traced, standing out in 
 soft relief from the green earth and the 
 blue and golden sky. 
 
 'Magnificent!" I exclaimed, turning 
 toward my friend, who was standing with 
 his face to the east, his gaze fixed on high, 
 appaiently lost in contemplation. 
 
 He did not reply, and repeating my ex 
 clamation, I lightly touched him on the 
 arm. He started suddenly, and turned to 
 mt with an expression so absent, so vacant, 
 that I felt a slight alarm, and instantly 
 added : 
 
 ' Huntly, are you ill ? " 
 
 "111, Frank? No! no! not ill by any 
 means," he replied. " Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " You appeared so strangely." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, where think you were 
 my thoughts ? " 
 
 " How should I know ? " 
 
 " True enough, and I will tell you. I 
 was thinking of that fair being we rescued 
 from the flames." 
 
 " And why of her now ? " 
 
 " Not only now, Frank, but she fills my 
 thoughts more than you are aware. Often 
 do I see her in my dreams ; and the mere 
 resemblance of yonder sky to fire, vividly 
 recalled to mind that never-to-be forgotten 
 Bight when (irst I beheld her." 
 
 " Charley, you are in love." 
 
 ' It may be," he answered with a sigh ; 
 
 " but, alas ! if so, I love one whom 1 shall 
 never behold again ; " and he dropped his 
 head upon his .bosom in a musing mood. 
 
 "Nay, nay, old friend," I said gaily; 
 " it will not do for you to be getting senti 
 mentally love-sick, away out here upon the 
 prairies. Who knows but some day she 
 you are thinking of, may, in spite of your 
 now doleful looks, become your wife ! " 
 
 " Frank," said Huntly, in quick reply, 
 with a look of reproach, " if you knew my 
 feelings, you would not wound them, I am 
 sure, by untimely jests." 
 
 " Good heavens ! Charley," I exclaimed, 
 in surprise, at once grasping his hand with 
 a hearty pressure ; "I wound your feel 
 ings ? Why such a thought never entered 
 my head. I spoke jestingly, it is true ; 
 but I was not aware that the affair had 
 become so serious. I was thinking at the 
 time that one ailing youth in our camp was 
 sufficient." 
 
 " To whom do you allude ? " 
 
 "Myself." 
 
 " How so ? I ws not aware that you 
 were ailing, as you call it." 
 
 " Why, do you not know that I am in 
 love, like yourself? " 
 
 " Heavens ! not with her, Frank not 
 with her ? " cried my friend, grasping my 
 arm nervously, and peering into my face 
 with a searching glance. 
 
 " Ay, Charles, and I thought* you knew 
 it. I acted wrongly, I know, and have 
 deeply repented since." 
 
 " But then, you you love her still, 
 Frank ? " 
 
 " Devotedly, as God is my judge ! " 
 Huntly released my arm with a groan, 
 and turned away his head. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this, Charles? '* 
 I inquired, in a tone of alarm. 
 
 " Why did you not tell it me before ? " 
 he said, with a long, deep sigh. 
 
 " First, because it is a delicate subject, 
 and I did not like to mention it. Second 
 ly, because you have never before alluded 
 to it yourself." 
 
 " True ; but I did not dream it was so* 
 God ! why, then, did you not let me 
 perish in the flames ?" 
 
 " Perish, Charles ? how strangely you 
 talk ! Why should I have let you pensh? " 
 
 " To end my misery." 
 
 " Misery ? You alarm me, Charles 
 
36 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 you are not well you have bad news 
 or something has happened which you 
 have kept from me?" 
 
 "You love her, you say is not that 
 enough ? But go on ! I will yield all to 
 you. 1 will not stand in your way. No! 
 sooner would I die than mar your happi 
 ness. But I regret I did not know of it 
 before." 
 
 " Charles," I exclaimed, in real alarm, 
 " what mean you by these strange words ? 
 y'ou stand in my way ? I do not under 
 stand you ; you have some hidden mean- 
 ing!" 
 
 " Have you, then, not divined that I 
 love her?" 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 " And can two love the same, and both 
 be happy ? " 
 
 "Why not? I would not rob you of 
 your love. True, I love her deeply, de 
 votedly, I swear to you ; and I know you 
 love her also ; but then our love is different. 
 You love her as a brother but I, as some 
 thing more than brother." 
 
 "I see you are mistaken, Frank; and 
 to show you how much I sacrifice to. your 
 happiness, I will say, once for all, I love 
 her as deeply, as devotedly, as passion 
 ately as yourself; but not as a brother, 
 my friend ; no, not as a brother." 
 
 " Indeed* Charles ! " I cried, with a ter 
 rible suspicion of something I dared not ex 
 press : " Indeed, Charles !'" and I grasped 
 his arm, and sought his eye with mine : 
 " Indeed, Huntly ! No ! no ! gracious 
 heavens ! you cannot mean what you have 
 said ! Take it back, I beg of you, and 
 avow you love her as a brother, and noth 
 ing more for more would be criminal." 
 
 " I do not see the criminality you speak 
 of," he answered coldly. "Is it not 
 enough that I have offered to sacrifice my 
 own happiness, without being charged with 
 rime ?*" 
 
 "But Charles, my friend, consider! 
 you have no right to an attachment warmer 
 than a brother's." 
 
 "Rigfit!" echoed Huntly, turning pale 
 with excitement : " Right, say you ! By 
 heavens ! when it comes to that, I know 
 not why my right to love her is not as 
 rood as yours." 
 
 "Shall I tell you?" 
 
 " Ay, do ! Quote me the law that makes 
 
 it criminal for me to love and not your 
 self," answered Charles, bitterly. 
 
 " The law of consanguinity ? " 
 
 " Heavens ! what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Does not the same blood flow in the 
 veins of both of you ? " 
 
 " Good God ! you chill my blood with 
 horror ! you do not mean this ? " and my 
 friend turned deadly pale, reeled like on 
 intoxicated, and grasped my aim for sup 
 port. " I was not aware of this, Frank." 
 
 I now became more alarmed than ever. 
 Something had assuredly turned the brain 
 of my friend, and he was now, (how I 
 shuddered as. I thought) he was now a 
 maniac ! 
 
 " Why, Charley," I said, in a tone as 
 soothing as I could command, "surely 
 you know her to be your sister ! " 
 
 " Sister!" he fairly shrieked. 
 
 "Ay, sister, Charley. Is not Lilian 
 your sister?" 
 
 " Lilian! " he cried, with a start, and a 
 rapid change of countenance that terrified 
 me. "Lilian ! then you were speaking 
 of my sister Lilian ? " 
 
 " Assuredly ! who else ? " 
 
 Huntly looked at me a moment steadily, 
 and then burst into an uncontrollable fit ol 
 laughter, that made my blood run cold. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! " I cried, " his senses 
 are indeed lost ! " and I was on the poinl 
 of hurrying to camp, to give the alann 
 and get assistance, when, seizing me by 
 the arm with one hand, and giving me a 
 hearty slap on the shoulder with the other, 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 " Frank, if ever there were two fools, 
 then you I and make four." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " I sighed, and my eyes 
 filled with tears : " What a shock it will 
 be to his family ! " 
 
 "Why, Frank," he cried again, accom 
 panying his words with another slap, "you 
 are dreaming, man ! your senses are wool 
 gathering." 
 
 " Exactly," I said ; "he, of course thinks 
 me insane, poor fellow ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Frank. It is all a mistake, 
 my dear fellow, and a laughable one truly, 
 as you must know. You were speiking 
 of sister Lilian ; while I, all the time, was 
 alluding to the fair unknown." 
 
 " What ! " cried I, comprehending all at 
 a glance; "then it is no insanity witt 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 you and we have both made fools of our 
 selves indeed ? " 
 
 " Exactly ; so give me your hand on it, 
 my old chum ! " 
 
 Instantly my hand was locked in that of 
 my friend, and then such another shout of 
 merriment as we both set up, at the ridicu 
 lousness of the whole affair, I venture to 
 say was never heard in that part of the 
 country before nor since. 
 
 "So, then," resumed I, "the secret is 
 out, and we have both acknowledged to 
 being deeply in love. Really, dear Char- 
 t-y. I feel under great obligations to you 
 for that meditated sacrifice more especial- 
 y, as the lady in question is thousands of 
 miles away, is entirely unknown to us, and 
 will probably never be seen again by either 
 Charles Huutly or Francis Leighton." 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut, Frank ! ' No more of 
 that, ? n' thou lovest me/ " returned my 
 friend, good humoredly. " I admit that I 
 have acted the simpleton ; but, at the same 
 time (and he gave me a comical look), I 
 feel proud to say I have had most excellent 
 company Eh ! my dear fellow ? " 
 
 " I acknowledge the corn." 
 
 " But touching my sister, Frank." 
 
 "Well, what of her?" I cried quickly, 
 while I felt the blood rush to my face in a 
 warm current. 
 
 " Did you not act hastily too hastily 
 in that matter, my friend ? " 
 
 " I fear I did, and I have bitterly repent 
 ed since. But I loved her so, Charley ; 
 Knd you knew my passionate nature could 
 not brook a rival." 
 
 " A rival, Frank ! I never knew you had 
 a rival." 
 
 " What ! not know the elegant Mr. 
 VVharton?" 
 
 " Pah ! you did not take him for a rival, 
 I hope." 
 
 " Indeed I did. Does he not visit your 
 house frequently?" 
 
 " Yes, and so do fifty others ; but I as 
 sure you dear Lilian will not marry them 
 all." 
 
 ' But but I thought Wharton a a 
 
 " A fashionable gallant. So he is." 
 " No a a special suitor to your sis- 
 ttr's hand," 1 stammered, concluding the 
 entence ray friend had interrupted. 
 
 " Pshaw ! Frank. Why Lilian would 
 
 not look at him other than to treat him 
 respectfully, as she would any visitor 
 much less marry him." 
 
 " Then you think she does not lore 
 him?" 
 
 " Love him ! " echoed Huntly, with a 
 smile of contempt, and an expressive shrug 
 of his shoulders. "No! Lilian Huntly 
 loves but one." 
 
 " And who is he ? " 
 
 " One certain hot-headed youth, ycleped 
 Frank Leighton." 
 
 " Are you sure of this, Charles ? " and 1 
 caught the hand of my friend, and fastened 
 my eye steadily upon his. 
 
 " I will stake my life on it ; and had you 
 been possessed of your usual good sense 
 that night you must have seen it." 
 
 I released the hand I had clasped in 
 mine, and staggered back as if struck a 
 violent blow. My brain grew dizzy, my 
 hands trembled, and it was with difficulty 
 I could keep myself upon my feet. In 
 stantly the arm of my friend encircled my 
 waist, and he said, hurriedly : 
 
 "Good heavens! what have I done! 
 Frank, Frank, take this not so hard it 
 will all be right in the end. Lilian and 
 you were made for each other, I see ; and 
 this separation will only serve to knit more 
 closely the tie of affection between you 
 when again you meet." 
 
 I replied not ; I could not ; but I struck 
 my head with my fist, and gave vent to a 
 groan that seemed to issue from my very 
 soul. 
 
 "Is it there ye is, your honors? " said 
 the voice of Teddy, at this moment. 
 " Faith, now, I've bin lookin for yees wid 
 my two eyes and ears this long while, to ax 
 ye, would ye have your breakfast cooked, 
 or be afther takin it raw ? " 
 
 "Cooked, you fool!" cried Huntly, 
 angrily. 
 
 " Thin all I have to say is, it's waitin, 
 your honors, and done beauthifully, by the 
 chief cook and buthler, Teddy O'Lagherty, 
 barring that he's no cook at all, at all, 
 worth mintion, and divil a bit o' a buthler 
 is in him now. And what's more, I'm to 
 till ye that the Misther Trapphers is jist 
 gitting ready to lave the whereabouts, and 
 they sez be ye going wid them, they'll b 
 axing yees to travel." 
 
 " Sure, enough," said Huntly, looking 
 
36 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 down toward the camp, "they are prepa 
 ring 1 to leave in earnest. So come, Frank," 
 and taking my arm in his, we descended 
 the hill together in silence. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OUR CAMP RAISED AND JOURNEY RESUMED 
 
 A HALT COTTON'S CHEEK ORIGIN OF 
 
 THE NAME ALARM PREPARATION FOR 
 
 DEFENCE CAMP, ETC. 
 
 BT the time that we had joined the trap 
 pers, the sun was already risen, and stream 
 ing his golden light over the broad prairie 
 with a beautiful effect. Hastily partaking 
 of our breakfast, watering our animals 
 at a small creek which ran bubbling round 
 the base of the little knoll so often men 
 tioned, we prepared to raise our camp, as 
 packing up to leave is termed by the 
 mountaineers. Placing our saddles, pos 
 sibles, etc., on our horses and mules, we 
 mounted and took a northern course over 
 the prairie. 
 
 As we passed along, we saw a few deer 
 away in the distance, and occasionally 
 caught sight of a buffalo, while animals of 
 various kinds and sizes appeared here and 
 there, sporting in the glorious sunbeams 
 and seeking their daily fare, both single 
 and in numbers. However, as we had 
 plenty of "meat" laid in for the present, 
 we did not trouble them, but kept quietly 
 along upon our course Black George 
 taking the lead as pilot, and the rest of us 
 following in his track, Indian file. 
 
 A little past noon we came to a small 
 creek which flows into the Blue Earth 
 river, or "Big Blue," as I heard it called 
 by the mountain men, and here we paused 
 sixain to water our animals, and allow 
 them a few minutes to crop the luxuriant 
 grass beneath their feet. 
 
 " That's time enough, boys, I'm think- 
 in," said Black George; "so what's the 
 use o' hurryin ? Spect we wouldn't live 
 no longer for't ; and jest to tell the fact, 
 I'm in no particular drive to quit this warm 
 sunshine, for the clouds and snow and ice 
 o' the mountains Eh ! Ned ! augh ! " 
 
 " Don't know's the mountain '11 be any 
 better for our waitin," grumbled Ned ; 
 
 " and as long's we've got to ^o, what's tl'O 
 use o' our throwin away time here ? " 
 
 "Augh!" grunted the old trapper. 
 " You're al'ays in a haste, boy, and some 
 day you'll git rubbed out in a haste, 01 I'm 
 no beaver. Come, what say you, Torn ? 
 you haint opened your face sence you 
 bolted that meat leastwise to my knowin." 
 
 " I don't care a chaw which stay 01 
 go suit yourselves," answered Daring 
 Tom, sententiously. 
 
 "Well, boys," rejoined the oid moun 
 taineer, " we'll hold our wind here 'bout 
 a quarter, and then travel." 
 
 Saying which, he dismounted his mule, 
 drew his pipe from a little holder suspend 
 ed round his neck, and squatting upon the 
 ground, deliberately filled and ignited it, 
 by means of punk, flint, and steel, and 
 commenced puffing away, as indifferent to 
 everything or person around him, as if 
 he had been paid expressly to pass his lifo 
 in this manner. Fiery Ned, however, waa 
 not pleased ; and ripping out a few oaths, 
 on what he termed the " d d laziness of 
 the other," he jerked up his mules and 
 set forward, followed by Rash Will only 
 Daring Tom and ourselves remaining 
 with Black George. The last mentioned 
 puffed away quietly, until the foremost 
 party had disappeared, when taking hia 
 pipe from his mouth, blowing out a large 
 volume of smoke, and watching it as il 
 curled round and round on its ascent, ere 
 it disappeared, he turned to me with a 
 comical look, and shrugging his shoulders 
 and winking his eye, observed : 
 
 " They'll not live no longer for it, hoss, 
 I'll be dog-gone ef they will ! " Say 
 ing which, he drew his legs a little more 
 under him, and resumed his pipe with the 
 gravity of a Dutchman. 
 
 The spot where we were now halted 
 was one of rare .beauty. It was a little 
 valley, nearly surrounded by hills in the 
 shape of a horse-shoe, along the base of 
 which, like a silver wire, wound the little 
 murmuring rivulet, its waters sparkling 
 in the sunshine, becoming glassy in the 
 shade, and mirroring the steeps above it 
 as it gaily took its way to unite with the 
 larger waters of the Blue. Above us, on 
 three sides, rose the horse-shoe ridge, par 
 tially bare with frowning rocks, and par 
 tially covered with a dwarfish growch d/ 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 .39 
 
 rarious kinds of wood.. The valley or bot 
 tom was a rich alluvion, carpeted with 
 fresh sweet grass which our animals 
 cropped eagerly and with various kinds 
 of wild flowers ; while hundreds of gay- 
 plumed birds were hovering over our heads, 
 or skimming along the surface, and thus 
 checkering and enlivening the scene with 
 their presence, and filling the air and our 
 ears with the melody of their voices. The 
 point of the valley not belted with the hills, 
 looked out upon a prairie, which stretched 
 away to the west, ani south, its half-grown 
 grass waving in the breeze and resembling 
 che light ripples of some beautiful lake. 
 
 "What a lovely scene ! " .said Huntly. 
 turning to me, as, dismounted, we, both 
 
 o 
 
 stood gazing upon it. 
 
 " x\. little Paradise that I have never 
 seen surpassed," was my answer. 
 
 " Yes, but everything Beautiful here 
 abouts gits sp'iit to them as knows it a 
 few," chimed in the old hunter, blowing 
 the smoke deliberately from his mouth. 
 " Now, I've no doubt this here place looks 
 purty to you, but I've seen blood run 
 hereaways a ugh ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " I exclaimed, advancing to 
 the old trapper, as did each of the others, 
 with the exception of Tom, who, having 
 Sijuattecl himself some little distance off 
 and lit his pipe, seemed wholly absorbed 
 with thoughts of his own. "Then there 
 has been lighting here in days gone by ?" 
 I pursued. 
 
 " Well, thar has, hoss," was the res 
 ponse. " Ye see that ar creek, don't ye ? " 
 pointing to it with the stem of his pipe. 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 "Well, it looks purty enough to one as 
 don't know, but this coon's seen them wa 
 ters red afore now. 
 
 " Tell us the tale," said Huntly. 
 
 Why it's long, Bosson, and we haint 
 got time k) throw away so I'll hev to let 
 it slide, I'm thinkin. Howsomever, I'll 
 gin ye the gist on't, and I spose that'll do 
 us well. That creek you see yonder's bin 
 called Cotton's Creek ever sence that time, 
 and the reason ou't is. case a powerful 
 good chap culled Jim Cotton, or "Snake- 
 Eye," gnt nibbed out lhar bv the cussed 
 Pawnees. Me and him, and Jake Strader, 
 and Sigh Davis, had bin down to St. Lou- 
 flT, a^id sold our oeavers to the Nor-Wes- 
 
 ters,* (and them was the days when thcv 
 fetched sonaethin five dollar a plew,| old 
 or youDg uns, instead o' a dollar a pound 
 augh !) and coming out to Independence 
 with the ' rocks ' in our pockets, we got on 
 a regular spree, and spent a few but not 
 all and a infernal Greaser^ somehow git 
 tin wind on't, and findin out jest which 
 way we's a-goin, put out ahead, and got 
 some five or six Pawnees to jine him, and 
 come down here to cache for us. 
 
 "Well, in course we w r asn't thinkin o' 
 nothin dangerous, case our bottles warn't 
 all emptied, and we felt h^ppy enough. 
 Jest down here we stopped to water and 
 rest like we're doin now, when all at once 
 that ar bush you see yonder near the bank, 
 let out seven bullets right among us. Jim 
 Cotton was throwed cold, and never kick 
 ed artcr, poor feller ! Jake Strader got 
 arm broke, Sigh Davis a ball through his 
 shoulder, and me one right into my calf. 
 Then thinkin they throwed the majority, 
 the oudacious skunks come tearin and yel- 
 lin like sin, old, Greaser on the lead. A 
 part broke for us, and the rest for our an 
 imals, so as ef they didn't ' count a ccup ' 
 they could put us 'afoot.' 
 
 " ' Heyars hair, and a chance for dry 
 powder gin 'em h ! ' sez I ; and I ups 
 with old Sweetlove, and throwed old Grea 
 ser cold, right in his tracks so cold ho 
 never knowed what made meat of him, 
 Greaser didn't. 
 
 " Well, jest as mine went I heerd two 
 more pops, and blow me for a liar ef two 
 
 more of the rascals didn't drap purty ! 
 
 How they'd done it specially Jake Stra 
 der with his broken arm got me all of a 
 heap ; but done it they had, sartin as win- 
 kin ; and thar the varmints lay, a-kickin 
 like darnation. Now thar was only four 
 left and grabbin Jim Cotton's rifle, afore 
 they knowed what I was about, I laid an 
 other han'some. Now we was even, and 
 I hollered to the skunks to come on and 
 show fair fight, and I'd eyther lick the 
 three or gin 'em my scalp. But they 
 hadn't no notion o' tryinon't, the cowards I 
 but turned and ' split ' as ef the arth wad 
 agoin to swaller 'em. 
 
 * Hudson Bay Company is sometimes so call 
 ed by the trappers. 
 
 t Huie a whole sfcin. 
 
 Spaniard or Mexican. 6 Hide from cachn 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER OR, 
 
 " ' Ilurraw for us beavers ! ' I sez ; ' and 
 U:t us go hair- raisin ; ' and with that I takes 
 my butcher and walks into the varmints ; 
 and them as wasn't dead I carved ; and 
 itrter I'd done, me and Sigh for Jake 
 Couldn't work well we hove the meat 
 into the water, christening it Cotton's 
 Creek ; then we dug a hole nii>'h 'bout 
 
 O O 
 
 whar you're standing, put in poor Jim, 
 kivered him over, and jest as we was, all 
 wounded, we mounted our critters and put 
 
 " And do ye think there is, maybe, iny 
 of the likes of thim rid divils about here 
 now., sure, Misther Trapper George ? " 
 inquired Teddy, with an uneasy look. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder, boss ; for we're 
 agoin right toward 'em." 
 
 " Faith, thin," said Teddy, turning 
 slightly pale, " maybe it's the wrong road 
 ye're going now ? " 
 
 " 0, ye needn't fear I'll miss the track," 
 answered the old hunter, who put a literal 
 construction on the Irishman's words. " I 
 know the ground as well as you know your 
 own daddy." 
 
 " Agh! and well ye may, Misther George, 
 and have little to brag on the whiles, jist," 
 rejoined the other quickly. " But what I 
 maan is, it's maybe if we take anither way, 
 we'll not rin among the divils, and git 
 made maat of as ye calls it, now." 
 
 " Why, Teddy," said I, " you are not 
 becoming alarmed at this stage of the 
 journey I hope ? " 
 
 " Och, no ! it's not alar-r-med meself 
 is gittin at all, at all, barring a little fright 
 
 O ' o O 
 
 maybe I has for your honor's safety." 
 
 " 0, never mind me, Teddy," I replied. 
 " I assure you 1 am doing very weli, and 
 of course prepared myself to run all haz 
 ards before I came here." 
 
 " Well," observed Huntly, " I think we 
 had better set forward again, and select 
 *ur camp early." 
 
 ' That's a fact," cried Black George, 
 springing to his feet with the agility of a 
 youth of twenty : "You is right, boy 
 right. Come, Tom, we's a-goin to put;" 
 and he turned toward his saddle mule. 
 " Hey ! what ! " he exclaimed suddenly, 
 with a stress upon the words that instantly 
 brought us all round him, eager to learn 
 the cause. 
 
 But nothing could we discover, save that 
 
 j the old mule alluded to was snuffing the 
 1 air, with her ears bent forward and point 
 ing steadily in one direction. Tivo or 
 three words, however, from the old trap 
 per, sufficed to enlighten and alarm us at 
 the same time. 
 
 " Injins, boys rifles ready Suke's no 
 liar." Then turning to Tom, who had 
 also started to his feet on hearing the *irst 
 j exclamation of Black George, he added : 
 " Split for cover, Tom, and hunt for 
 ' sign.' " 
 
 Scarcely was the sentence out of the old 
 man's mouth, ere Tom was out of sight; 
 for understanding all at a glance, he had 
 turned at the first word, and, leaping across 
 tin 1 stream, disappeared in a thicket on the 
 outer side. 
 
 1 felt queer, I must own, for it was (he 
 first time that danger had become appa 
 rent to me ; and this being concealed, I 
 knew not what to expect, and of course 
 magnified it considerably. Beside. ,, the 
 story I had just heard, together with the 
 quick and decisive movements of the trap 
 pers, led me to anticipate a sudden onset 
 from a large body of Indians. Determin 
 ed to sell my life dearly, I grasped my rifle 
 in one hand, and loosened my pistols and 
 knife with the other. I cast a quick glance 
 upon Huntly, and saw that he was also 
 prepared for the worst. His features had 
 paled a little, his brow was slightly wrin 
 kled, and his lips compressed, showing a 
 stern resolve. But the Irishman, in spite 
 of my fears, amused me. Instead of bring 
 ing up his rifle ready for an aim, Teddy 
 had griped it midway, and was whirling it 
 over his head as he would a shelaleh, the 
 while raising first one foot and then the 
 other in great excitement, as if treading 
 on live coals, his face flushed, his eyes 
 fixed in one direction, his nostrils expand 
 ed, and his breast heaving with hard 
 breathing. 
 
 " Quick ! " exclaimed Black George ; 
 " fetch round the animals and make a 
 breastwork to cover." 
 
 Instantly Huntly and 1 sprang to our 
 horses, and the old trapper to his mules, 
 while the Irishman, heeding nothing that 
 was said, still continued his laborious 
 gyrations. In less than a minute the ani 
 mals were arranged in our front, and we 
 were repriming our fire-weapons, "and 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 41 
 
 preparing to repel the attack manfully, 
 should one be made. A minute of silence 
 succeeded, when Black George ''.ried out 
 to Teddy : 
 
 " D'ye want to be made mea on, you 
 t-hunderin fool ! that you stand thar like a 
 monkey target ? " 
 
 But the Hibernian either did not hear, 
 or, hearing, did not heed. 
 
 " Teddy," I shouted. 
 
 " Here, your honor ! " answered Teddy, 
 running up and crawling under my horse, 
 he having been standing outside of our 
 animal breast-work. 
 
 " What were you doing out there, 
 Teddy?" 
 
 " Troth, I was gitting my hand in, jist." 
 
 " Yes, and you might hev got a bullet 
 in your meat-bag," rejoined the old trap 
 per, dryly. 
 
 " Ah f " said Teddy, dolefully, " if ye'll 
 belave me now, it's that same doings that 
 worries meself the most in this kind of 
 fighting. Barring the shooting and the 
 danger attinding it, it's rne mother's son 
 us wouldn't mind fighting at all, at all." 
 
 " There are a great many such heroes 
 m the world," I rejoined, with a smile ; 
 " and most men are brave when there is 
 no danger. But I'll exonerate you from 
 being a coward, Teddy, for you once nobly 
 saved my life ; but at the same time I 
 think I shall have to give you a few les 
 sons when this affair is over, so that you 
 will be able to act becomingly, under like 
 circumstances, and know the proper use 
 of your riile." 
 
 "Hist!" said Black George at this 
 moment. 
 
 All became a dead silence. Presently 
 the faint cawing of a distant crow was 
 heard in the woods nearest us. 
 
 " Injin sign but no sudden dash," ob- 
 Sf.rved the old trapper again. 
 
 " Indeed ! " I exclaimed, in surprise ; 
 " And pray how came you by your infor 
 mation ? " 
 
 " Jest as easy as you ken look at pot 
 hooks and tell what thef sez," answered 
 the mountaineer. " You know how to 
 read a heap in bocks ; I know how to read 
 the sign o' rater ; and both is good in 
 lhar places. You heerd that crow, I'm 
 thinkiu ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Well that was Darin Tom speakin to 
 me, and tellin me what I told you." 
 
 Ere I had time to express my surprise, 
 the person in question made his appear 
 ance, leaping nimbly across the littl* 
 creek, and gliding up to us as silently as 
 an Indian. 
 
 "What's the sign?" asked Black 
 George. 
 
 " Pawnees," was the answer. 
 
 " Howd' they number.and which way?" 
 
 " Twenty o:ld, and toward the sothe." 
 
 " Arter hair ? " 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 " Be apt to trouble us ? " 
 
 " Think they passed with their eyes 
 shut." 
 
 " Playin possum maybe. How lontj 
 gone?" 
 
 " Less nor a quarter." 
 
 " Then Suke must have smelt 'em. 
 She's a knowin one, is Suke, and don't 
 fool her time. Spect we'd better put out 
 and look for camp ? " 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 " Augh ! " 
 
 Although this kind of dialogue was new 
 
 O O 
 
 to me, I nevertheless was able to under 
 stand that a body of Pawnees had passed 
 us, and was either not aware of our prox 
 imity, or did not care to make an attack 
 upon us in broad daylight. As the moun 
 taineers concluded, they instantly mounted 
 their mules and set forward ; and spring 
 ing upon our horses, we kept them com 
 pany. As we left the little cove if 1 
 may so term it by way of the prairie, 
 we were surprised to meet Fiery Ned and 
 Rash Will on their return to join us. 
 
 " Well ?" said Black George, interroga 
 tively. 
 
 "Injins," returned Rash Will. 
 
 " Ahead or ahind ? " 
 
 " Moccasins to the sothe." 
 
 "We've seed 'em augh !" 
 
 No more was said ; but wheeling their 
 animals, the two mountaineers silently 
 joined the cavallada, and we all moved 
 forward together. 
 
 The country over which we were now 
 passing, was exceeding beautiful and pic 
 turesque. Alternately well timbered bot 
 tom steep, craggy, barren blulfs open, 
 rolling prairies met our view; while 
 sparkling little streams, winding around iu 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 every direction, appeared like silver threads 
 fastening the whole together. 
 
 On our way hither, we h;id passed 
 through Independence, one of the most 
 important {joints in Missouri for obtaining 
 an uu;ii., ;in 1 taking much the same route 
 as that now followed by Oregon emigrants, 
 had crossed the Caw or Kansns river a day 
 or two previous to our camp on the prairie, 
 of which 1 have given a descriplion. Al 
 though this, as t then said, was our first 
 camp on the prairie, I wish the reader to 
 distinctly understand it was not our first 
 encampment beyond the boundaries of 
 civilization. But as I did not care to 
 trouble him with a tedious journey, which 
 produced no important incident, I jumped 
 over our progress to the time when I felt 
 our adventures had really begun. I say 
 this in explanation, lest having traveled 
 the route himself, he might be puzzled to 
 understand how, in so short a time from 
 the raising of our camp, we could have 
 become so far advanced. 
 
 It was now the middle of June, and the 
 sun poured down his heat with great in 
 tensity, so that our animals perspired free 
 ly, and seemed far more inclined to linger 
 in the shade when we passed a timbered 
 spot, than to hurry forward in the open 
 sunshine. Nevertheless we managed, be 
 fore the sun sunk to rest, to put a good 
 thirty miles between us and our camp of 
 the previous evening. Reaching at last a 
 smooth, pleasant spot belted with hills, 
 not unlike the one of our noonday halt, 
 through which likewise murmured and 
 sparkled a little rivulet we paused and 
 decided to camp at once. In a few 
 minutes our animals were hoppled, and 
 regaling themselves with great gusto upon 
 the sweet, green blades which here grew 
 exuberantly. 
 
 ." Somebody'll hev to stand sentinel to 
 night," observed Black George, as we 
 seated ourselves around the tire, which 
 had been kindled for the purpose of toast 
 ing our meat, and keeping off the wild 
 beasts. " Who's a-goin to claim the privi- 
 "ege?" 
 
 No one answered ; but the other trap 
 pers all looked toward Huntly and myself, 
 which I was not slow to understand. 
 
 " Do you think there is any danger to 
 night ? " I inquired 
 
 " Thar's never a timj in this part of (ha 
 world when thar isn't, stranger," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " But do you apprehend an attack from 
 the savages to-night ? " 
 
 " Maybe, and maybe not ; but yon 
 know what happ'd to-day, and thar's yign 
 about, clear as mud." 
 
 " Well, if you think I will answer the 
 purpose, I am ready to volunteer my 
 services." , 
 
 The old trapper mused a moment, shook 
 his head, and replied : 
 
 " I'm feared not. I'll keep guard my 
 self; for you be young, and mightn't 
 know a Injin from a tree ; and it's like 
 thar'll be powder burnt afore morn in." 
 
 Although these words portended danger, 
 yet so fatigued was I from my day's travel, 
 that in less than two hours from the time 
 they were spoken, in common with the 
 rest Black George excepted, who, pipe in 
 mouth, and rifle in hand, remained squatted 
 before the fire I was sound asleep. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A PAINFUL DRK-AK ATTACK FROM THE PAW 
 NEES ALARM TREEING COWARDICE O* 
 
 THE WESTERN INDIANS COLD-BLOODED 
 
 MUTILATION COOLNESS AND VALOR OJ 
 
 THE MOUNTAINEERS. 
 
 I was once rrfore in my native land 
 Time had flown rapidly, years had rolled 
 onward, thousands on thousands of milea 
 had been gone over, and now I stood in 
 the city of my nativity. Strange and 
 powerful emotions stirred me. I was weed 
 ing my way through the old and well- 
 remembered streets to the home of one 
 who had been daily and nightly in my 
 thoughts during my long absence. I al 
 ready pictured myself entering her abode, 
 and the start and thrill of joyful surprise 
 on her beholding me again. At length I 
 readied the well known mansion. There 
 it stood, just as I had left it. There were 
 the same steps I had ascended, and the 
 bell I had rung on the night when I haJ 
 so abruptly and cruelly torn myself from 
 her sweet presence. I felt a nervous ixe- 
 mor run through my whole system. 2 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 could scarcely stand. My heart seemed 
 to shrink into nothing, my blood began to 
 curdle in mv veins, and my quaking limbs 
 refused to d*o my bidding. There I stood, 
 shaking like an aspen leaf, afraid to go 
 forward, unwilling to retreat. At length, 
 by a threat effort, I grew more calm. With- 
 a fresh determination not to be conquered 
 by myself, I rushed up the steps and rang 
 the bell. A servant appeared. But he 
 was.notth; one I had expected to behold ; 
 not the one that had answered my former 
 summons ; his face was new to me. This 
 was a change, it is true, and produced 
 some very unpleasant feelings ; but this 
 was a common one, and nothing to alarm 
 me. 
 
 " Is HISS Huntly at home ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Miss Huntly don't live here, sir." 
 
 "What!" cried I, gasping for breath, 
 "not live here?" 
 
 " No, sir ! this is Mr. Wharton's house." 
 
 " Wharton ! Yes, well, he he is 
 married ? " 
 
 Yes, sir, he's married." 
 
 " Who did he marry ? " 
 
 " Don't know, sir." 
 
 " Was it a Lilian Huntly ?" 
 
 " No indeed, I guess it wasn't. He 
 wouldn't look at her, I know." 
 
 "Not look at her, villain! why not?" 
 and, excited beyond reason, I seized my 
 informant beyond the collar. " Why 
 would he not look at her, wretch ?" I re 
 peated, hoarsely. " Tell me quickly, or 
 I will dash your brains out at my feet ! " 
 
 " Ca-cause she's poor," was the trem 
 bling reply. 
 
 " Poor ! " I shouted. 
 
 ' Ye-yes, sir." 
 
 " And where is she to be found ? " 
 
 " Just round that alley yonder first 
 door on the left." 
 
 I followed with my eyes the direction 
 indicated by the finger of my informant, 
 and the next moment found the door 
 slammed in my face. But for this I cared 
 not. Lilian wa^ in trouble. With one 
 bound I cleared the steps, and darting 
 down the street, turned the coiner of the 
 alley, and stood before a miserable wooden 
 house. 
 
 " Great God ! " I cried, mentally, "the 
 home of Lilian, dear Lilian ! " and the 
 rext moment, without pausing to knock, I 
 
 burst open the door and entered a misera 
 ble apartment scantily furnished. 
 
 The first object that fixed my attention 
 was sweet Lilian herself; but oh ! how 
 altered ! how pale ! how wo-begone her 
 look ! Her dress and appearance bespoke 
 poverty and suffering, and chilled my 
 blood. 
 
 " Lilian ! " I cried, rushing toward her, 
 with outstretched arms. 
 
 She rose stared at me a frightful 
 expression swept over her pale, grief-worn, 
 but still lovely features she struggled for 
 ward gasped and, uttering my name, 
 with a terrible shriek, sunk senseless into 
 my arms. 
 
 At this moment the door was burst rude 
 ly open, and Wharton, with eyes gleaming 
 tire, pistol in hand, rushed into the apart 
 ment. Ere I had time for thought, the 
 pistol flashed, the report rang in my ears, 
 and the ball buried itself in the head of 
 my beloved Lilian. With a shriek of hor 
 ror, I dropped her lifeless body, and 
 awoke. 
 
 I looked up, and saw Huntly bending 
 over me, and heard a confused noise, the 
 discharge of firearms, and rising above all 
 the din, the yells of savages. 
 
 " Awake, Frank ! up for God's sake ! 
 we are attacked ! " cried Huntly. 
 
 Instantly I sprang to my feet, complete 
 ly bewildered. 
 
 " Tree, tree, or you're dead nigger ! " 
 shouted a voice behind me. 
 
 I turned around, but was still too much 
 confused to understand what was meant. 
 The next moment Huntly seized me by the 
 arm, and hurriedly dragging me to a neigh- 
 
 * oo o o 
 
 boring tree, thrust me behind it on the side 
 farthest from the fire. I had cause to be 
 thankful for this ; for as I moved from the 
 spot where I had stood, a ball whizzed past 
 me, which, had it been sped a second soon 
 er, had doubiless proved fatal. 
 
 I now learned, from a few hurried words 
 spoken by my friend, that the Indians 
 supposed to be Pawnees, and, in fact, the 
 same party which had alarmed us at Cot 
 ton's Creek had made a sudden dash at 
 cur animals, which were picketed within 
 pistol-shot of the tire, and, with loud yells, 
 had discharged their pieces and arrows into 
 our camp, fortunately without doing us any 
 injury. In a moment every one was on 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 his feet, with the exception of myself, who, 
 ns the reader knows, was lost in the mazes 
 of a troublesome dream, and had actually 
 converted the screeches of the savages into 
 cries from Lilian, and the report of fire 
 arms into the fatal shot from the pistol of 
 one I had looked upon as a rival. Each 
 of th trappers had hurriedly sought his 
 tree, while the Irishman, though a good 
 deal bewildered, had had presence of mind 
 and good sense enough to imitate their ex- 
 
 O O 
 
 ample. - Huntly of course could not leave 
 me to perish, and had paused to rouse me 
 in the manner shown. 
 
 By this time all had become silent as 
 the grave. Our camp fire was still burn 
 ing brightly, and bv its lio-ht we could trace 
 
 OO^*' * ^ O 
 
 a large circle round it ; but not an object, 
 save our animals some of which, particu 
 larly the mules, snuffed and snorted, and 
 appeared very restless was seen to stir. 
 One would suppose, to have gazed around 
 him in that waftn, still night, that not a 
 creature more dangerous than the fire-fly 
 and musquito was at hand, to disturb the 
 now seemingly deep and solemn solitude 
 of the place. In this way some two or 
 three minutes passed, during which you 
 could have heard the fall of a leaf, when 
 suddenly the stillness was broken by the 
 report of a rifle within twenty feet of me, 
 and was succeeded by a yell of agony some 
 thirty paces distant in another direction, 
 while an Indian, whom I had not before 
 observed, staggered forward, and fell with 
 in the circle lighted by the fire. 
 
 Now it was, as if the whole wilderness 
 were full of demons, that the most terrific 
 yells resounded on all sides, and some fif 
 teen or twenty savages, naked all but the 
 breech-clout, hideously painted, were seen 
 dodinn<>- among the scattering trees, making 
 
 O o o t O ^ ' O 
 
 toward us, and discharging their muskets 
 
 O O 
 
 and bows at random. A bullet striking 
 the stock of my rifle just above where 
 my hand grasped it, splintering it, and 
 sending some of the pieces into my face, 
 maddened me not a little ; and I vowed 
 revenge upon the first savage I could lay 
 eyes on. 
 
 "Give the skunks h 1!" shouted a 
 roice ; and ere the words were fairly ut 
 tered, some three or four rifles belched 
 forth tncir deadly contents, and three more 
 savages rolled howling in the dust. 
 
 At this moment I discovered a powerfuj 
 Indian making toward me, not ten feet 
 distant, his basilisk eyes fairly shining like 
 two coals of tire ; and raising my rifle 
 quick as lightning to my face, without 
 pausing even to sight it, I lodged- the con 
 tents in his body. He staggered back, 
 partly turned to fly, reeled, and then with 
 a howl of rage fell to the earth a corpse. 
 
 The Indians of the Far West, of the 
 present day, are not the Indians of former 
 times, whose wigwams once rose where 
 now stand our cities and hamlets, and 
 whose daring in war, when led by a Phil 
 lip, a Pontiac, or a Tecumseh, could only 
 be excelled by their cunning and ferocity. 
 No ! far from it. The present tribes have 
 degenerated wonderfully. They axe, take 
 them as a whole, a dirty, cowardly, despi 
 cable set, without one noble trait, and not 
 worth the powder it takes to kill them. 
 They will attack you, it is true ; but then 
 they must treble you in numbers ; and if 
 they fail in killing or completely overpow 
 ering you at the onset, ten to one but they 
 will beat a hasty retreat, and leave you 
 master of the field. 
 
 Of such dastardly wretches was com 
 posed the party which had assailed us. 
 Although vastly superior to us in num 
 bers, they now seemed completely thun 
 derstruck at the result of an attack, which, 
 doubtless, they had counted on as certain 
 victory. Five of their party had already 
 bitten the dust, and yet not one of us 
 had been touched. Notwithstanding this, 
 even had they possessed one half the cour 
 age and daring of their eastern forefathers, 
 they might to all appearance have annihi 
 lated us. But no ! they dared not longer 
 fight for victory. Like frightened pol 
 troons, as they were, they wavered for a 
 | moment, and then, as their last hope, made 
 !a "break" for our animals, with the in 
 tention of seizing and making oft" with them, 
 and thus leaving us to foot our long jour 
 ney. But even in this they failed, through 
 their own cowardice ; foi* comprehending 
 their intent, the trappers, with yells as sar- 
 age as their own, sprang from their trees, 
 and rushing toward them, they instantly 
 abandoned their design, and again most 
 ingloriously fled. 
 
 Two of our party, however, Fiery Ned 
 and Rash Will, were far from being satisfied 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 45 
 
 trith even this victory. Maddened with 
 rage, and a desire of farther revenge, they 
 actually leaped onward after the fugitives, 
 and quickly disappt ired from our view. 
 For a lime we could hear them shouting 
 and yelling ; but gradually the sounds grew 
 fainter and more faint, until at last nothing 
 whatever could be heard. 
 
 " The infernal skunks ! " said Black 
 George, stepping out from behind his tree, 
 and giving vent to a quiet, inward laugh, 
 peculiar to men of his profession. " Reck 
 on they'll stay put a few, and not trouble 
 as agin in a hurry ; " and again he laughed 
 as before. " But what fools Ned and Will 
 is ? They're never content with a fair 
 whip, but must al'ays be tryin to do a heap 
 more ; and some day they'll git thar hair 
 raised, and go under with a vengeance, or 
 I'm no sinner. But I say, Tom ? " 
 
 ' Well, boss ? " 
 
 ' Didn't we throw 'em purty ? " 
 
 ' Well we did, old coon." 
 
 ' I'll be dog-gone if we didn't. Come, 
 
 let 
 
 s lift thar hair auo-h ! 
 
 With this, both trappers drew their 
 knives, and taking from a little bag at 
 tached to their garments a small sand 
 stone, commenced sharpening them Avith 
 as much indifference as if they were about 
 to slice a buffalo, instead of dipping them 
 in the blood of human beings. When 
 done, their whetstones were carefully re 
 placed, and then turning to me, who with 
 Huntly and Teddy had meantime gathered 
 around the two, the old mountaineer said : 
 
 " Boy, you've done somethin for the 
 fust time, and needn't be ashamed on't. 
 Throwed him cold in his tracks, I'll be 
 dog-gone ef you didn't ! " and he nodded 
 toward the Indian I had slain. "Well, 
 he's your meat ; and so at him and raise 
 his top-knot afore he gits cold." 
 
 I shuddered at the bare thought of such 
 barbarity, and involuntarily shrunk back. 
 
 " 0, then you're a leetle squeamish, hey? 
 Well, I've heern tell o' sich things afore : 
 but it won't last long, Bosson, take my word 
 for't. Ef you don't raise hair afore you're 
 a thousand year older, jest call me a liar 
 and stop off' my bacca." 
 
 " No ! " I replied, firmly : " I could never 
 be brought to degrade myself by a custom 
 wtech originated with, and, if it' must still 
 be practiced, should eve" belong to, the 
 
 savage. I may kill an Indian in my 
 defence, but I cannot mutilate him when 
 dead.. I was bred in a very different 
 school." 
 
 "Bread, be !" returned Black 
 
 George, not comprehending any meaning. 
 " This here ain't bread it's meat ; and 
 as to skule, as you calls it, why that ar 
 belongs to the setlements ; and haint got 
 nothin to do out hereaways in the woods. 
 Eh! Tom?" 
 
 " Well it haint." 
 
 " No, I'll be rumfuzzled ef it hev ! And 
 so, stranger, ef you want to show you're 
 smart a heap, you'll jest lift that ar skunk's 
 hair and say no more about it. Eh ! 
 Tom?" 
 
 " Fact ! augh ! " 
 
 " No ! " I rejoined in a decisive tone, " I 
 will have nothing to do with it. If you 
 choose to scalp the Indian, that is no busi 
 ness of mine ; but I will not so degrade 
 myself." 
 
 " Well, ef your mind's made up, in 
 course it's no use o' talkin ; and so, Tom, 
 let's begin to slice." 
 
 At this moment we heard the report of 
 a distant rifle, quickly followed by another. 
 
 " Them boys is eyther throwed now, or 
 else some Injins have got rubbed out," ob 
 served Black George indifferently, "Come, 
 Tom, let's lift." 
 
 Saying this, the old trapper and his 
 companion set about their bloody work, 
 The first Indian they came to was not 
 dead ; and running his knife into his heart, 
 with a barbarous coolness that made me 
 shudder, Black George observed : 
 
 " That's your meat, Tom." 
 
 He then pas.sed on, leaving the latter to 
 finish the bloody task. Bending over the 
 now dead savage, and seizing him by the 
 hair of the head which, instead of a long 
 lock or cue as worn by some tribes, was 
 short and ridged, like the comb of a fowl. 
 Daring Tom ran his knife round the skull 
 bone with a scientific flourish, tore off the 
 scalp, and knocking it on the ground to 
 free it as much as possible from gouts of 
 blood, coolly attached it to his girdle, and 
 proceeded to the next. 
 
 " What a horrid custom ! " I exclaimed, 
 turning to Huntly. 
 
 "It is, truly," he replied. "But then 
 you know, Frank, it is one thai belongs to 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 UK- Indian and mountaineer ; and as we 
 have come among tliem voluntarily, we 
 have no right of course to quarrel with 
 them fur it." 
 
 " Be jabers ! " cried Teddy, " is it mur- 
 llu I'in^- the Injins twice they is, now, your 
 honors ? " 
 
 " Li would seem so," replied Huntly, 
 with a smile. 
 
 ' FMI.II, and your honor, and it's meself 
 as thinks they naad it, sure, the blathering' 
 spalpeens, to be coming- round us pace-able 
 citizens wiJ their nonsense, and entiling our 
 troats. Och ! it' I'd a knowed how to lit 
 oft this bothersome article, (holding up 
 His rifle) I'd a killed a dozen o' the baastly 
 crathurs, I would." 
 
 " Why, Teddy," I rejoined, " I thought 
 you knew how to shoot a rifle? at least 
 you to LI us so." 
 
 Teddy scratched his head, and put on a 
 Very comical look, as he replied : 
 
 " Yes, but ye sae, your honor, it was an 
 Irish rifle I was spaking of, barring that 
 
 l O O 
 
 It wasn't made in Ireland.at all, at all, but 
 in France, jist." 
 
 " But I thought they did not allow you 
 to use rifles in Ireland, Teddy ? " 
 
 " No more they don't ; but thin, ye sae, 
 it isn't sich murJiering thing-s as this now 
 they uses." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 "Why, I most forgit meself," returned 
 the Irishman, with a perplexed look, again 
 scratching his head. " Och ! now I come 
 to think on't, I belave it shot wid a long 
 stick, and that it wasn't meself as shot it 
 at all, at all. but me mother's father that 
 knowed sich things pace to his ashes." 
 
 "Teddy," In-joined, assuming a serious 
 tone which I was very far from feeling, 
 " it is evident that this is the first rifle you 
 ever laid hands on, and that the story you 
 told us on the boat, about your exploits in 
 shooting', was without the least foundation 
 whatever." 
 
 " Ah ! troth, it's like it may be," an 
 swered the Hibernian, penitently, with a 
 sigh. " It's like it may be, your honor ; for 
 tlivil a thing else can me make out of it. 
 But ye sae, ye questioned me close now, 
 and I's afeared that didn't I have the 
 qualifications ye axed, I'd not be naaded ; 
 and as I saan ye was raal gintlemen, and 
 DO blathers of spalpeens, it was going wfti 
 
 yoursel's Teddy O'Lagherty was afthn 
 doing, if he told a story, jist for which 
 howly Mary forgive me!" 
 
 " Well, well, Teddy, never mind," 1 said, 
 smiling. "I will show you the USP of the 
 rifle the first convenient opportunity ; and 
 so let what is past be forgotten." 
 
 "Ah!" cried the grateful Irishman, 
 doffing his beaver and making a low bow 
 " I knowed ye was gintlemen, yoiir honors, 
 every inch of yees, and wouldn t be hard 
 upon a poor forlorner like meself." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Huntly, "listen!** 
 and at the moment we heard the gloomy 
 howl of a pack of wolves. 
 
 " They already smell the feast prepared 
 for them, " I rejoined. 
 
 " Well, Frank, let us return to our camp 
 fire ; for I see the trappers have nearly 
 completed their unenviable task." 
 
 Acting upon his suggestion, we set for 
 ward, and gaining the fire, were soon 
 joined by Black George and Daring Tom, 
 who came up with five bloody scalps dan- 
 p-lincr at their girdles bringing- with them 
 
 n *" p 
 
 also some two or three rifles, a fresh supply 
 of powder and ball, and various other trifles 
 which they had taken from the dead Indians, 
 
 " I think we can count a coup this heat,'* 
 observed the old mountaineer, with hia 
 peculiar, quiet lau^'h : " Eh ! Tom ?" 
 
 "We can't do nothin else," was the 
 satisfactory response. 
 
 " I say, Tom, them wolves smell blood." 
 
 " Well they does." 
 
 " Thar's plenty o' meat for 'em, any how; 
 and ef they'll jest foller us, and them 
 skunks of Pawnees want to try this here 
 over a<nn, we'll make 'em fat. Eh ! Tom ?" 
 
 " Will so-o." 
 
 " Yes, I'll be dog--gone ef we don't ! 
 But I say, Tom, ain't it most time for Rash 
 and Fire to be in ? " 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 " Hope they didn't git throwed. It 'ud 
 be a pity to hev them go under jest now 
 and would spile all our sport." 
 
 " Well it would, hoss." 
 
 " Hark ! thar goes a whistle ! That'* 
 them, or I'm a nigger." 
 
 "'Taint nobody else," responded Dar 
 ing Tom. 
 
 "" All right. Augh ! Let's smoke." 
 
 Squatting themselves upon the ground, 
 cross-leg'g'ed, the trappers tilled their pipea, 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 and commenced puffing away as though 
 not] ling had happened to disturb their 
 equanimity. Such perfect recklessness of 
 life, such indifference to danger, I had 
 never seen displayed before ; and though 
 I abhorred some of their customs, I could 
 not but admire their coolness and valor. 
 Their sense of hearing I soon discovered 
 was far more acute than mine ; for when 
 the old trapper spoke of the whistle of his 
 comrades, I could not, for the life of me, 
 detect a distant sound proceeding from 
 human lips. But that he was right, was 
 soon evident ; for in less than five minutes 
 after. Fiery Ned and Rash Will made their 
 appearance, and quietly stealing up to the 
 aircle, threw themselves upon the ground 
 without a remark. At the belt of each 
 hun 1 -' 1 a fresh scalp, showing that two more 
 
 O i O 
 
 of the enemy had been their victims. 
 
 For some time the two smoked away in 
 silence, and then suggesting to the others 
 the propriety of joining them, all four 
 were soon in full blast. After a little, they 
 began to -talk over their exploits ; and 
 amusing themselves in this way for an 
 hour or more, one after another straight- 
 
 > 
 
 ened himself out on the earth, an example 
 which Teddy soon imitated, and in h've 
 minutes all were lost in sleep. 
 
 As for Huntly and myself, slumber had 
 fled our eyelids ; and stirring the fire, we 
 
 / o 
 
 seated ourselves at a little distance and 
 talked till daylight I narrating my singu 
 lar dream, and both commercing upon it. 
 All night long we heard the howling of the 
 ravenous wolves, as they tore the flesh 
 from the bones of our dead foes, and oc 
 casionally caught a gleam of their fiery 
 eye- balls, when they ventured nearer than 
 asxial to our camp. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JOURNEY RESUMED UNPLEASANT FEELINGS 
 
 UAMf 1 RESTLESSNESS A HALF FORM 
 ED HESOLTTION THE LONELY WATCH 
 
 TERRIFIC THUNDERSTORM PAINFUL SE 
 PARATION JOYFUL MEETING LOSS OF 
 
 ANIMALS SECOND CAMP. 
 
 AT an early hour in the morning we re 
 sumed our journey. As we moved along, 
 I be.l'cld the bones of two of oxir late foes, 
 
 basking white and ghastly in the sunlight, 
 their clean-licked, shiny skulls, hollow 
 sockets, and "Tinning teeth and iaws, fair- 
 
 . O J 
 
 ly making my flesh to creep And the 
 more so, perhaps, as I took into considera 
 tion that only a few hours before, these 
 same bones belonged to animated human 
 beings ; and that a mere turn of the whee* 
 of fate might have placed me in their po 
 sition, they in mine. Death is a solemn 
 thing to contemplate at any time, and I 
 was now in a mood to feel its terrors in 
 more than their wonted force. My dream, 
 although I tried to dispel it as only a dream, 
 still made a deep impression upon my 
 i mind ; and this, together with what oc 
 curred afterward, and the remembrance 
 of the conversation I had held with my 
 friend the morning previous, touching Lil 
 ian, all tended to depress my spirits and 
 make me melancholy. 
 
 At length, to rouse me from my sinking 
 stupor, I turned my eyes upon Huntly ; but 
 perceiving that he too was deep in thought, 
 I did not disturb his revery ; while my own 
 mind, settling back ihto itself, if I may be 
 permitted the expression, wandered far 
 away to the past, recalled a thousand old 
 scenes, and then leaped forward to the fu 
 ture, and became perplexed in conjectures 
 regarding my final fate. 
 
 About noon we reached the banks of the 
 Blue river, and, as on the preceding day, 
 halted a few minutes to rest and refresh 
 ourselves and animals. Here I noticed 
 trees of oak, ash, walnut and hickory, with 
 occasionally one of cottonwood and willow. 
 The bottoms of this stream are often wide 
 and fertile, on which the wild pea vine 
 grows in abundance. The pea itself is 
 somewhat smaller than that grown in the 
 settlements, and can be used; as vegetable, 
 its flavor being agreeable. 
 
 As our meat was now running slx*'^ 
 Daring Tom observed that he would ' .nake 
 somethin come ;" and setting forth with his 
 rifle, soon returned heavily laden with wild 
 turkeys. Hastily dressing, we threw them 
 into our possible sacks, and again set for 
 ward. 
 
 Traveling some fifteen miles through 
 woodland and over prairie, we encamped 
 at last in a beautiful little grove of ash and 
 hickory, on the margin of a creek that flow 
 ed into the Blue. The day had been 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 excessively hot and sultry,and all of us were 
 much fatigued. Starting a fire as usual 
 we < ooked some of our turkey meat, and 
 found it very delicious. As no Indian sign 
 had been discovered through the day, it 
 was i bought unnecessary to set a guard, 
 and accordingly we stretched ourselves 
 upon the earth around the fire, and in a 
 few minutes, with the exception of myself, 
 all were sound asleep. 
 
 I 'ould not rest. I tried to, but in vain. 
 The air was tilled with musquitoes, and 
 variciis other insects, attracted hither by 
 the fie-light, and they annoyed me exceed 
 ingly. This was not all. My mind, as in 
 fact it had been throughout the day, was 
 sorely depressed. A thousand thoughts, 
 that I vainly strove to banish, obtruded 
 themselves upon me. In spite of myself, 
 I thought of my dream. Pshaw ! why 
 should that trouble me ? It could not be 
 true, I knew ; and was only caused by the 
 previous remarks of Huntly, my excited 
 feelings, and surrounding circumstances. 
 Still it came up in my mind, as startlingly 
 as I had dreamed it ; and, in spite of my 
 scoffings, with every appearance of reality. 
 I was not naturally superstitious, and did 
 not believe in dreams but this one haunt 
 ed me as a foreboding of evil to her Hoved; 
 and as I lay and meditated, I half formed 
 the resolution to set out in the morning 
 upon my return, already sick of my under 
 taking. 
 
 It is one thing to read of adventures in 
 others, and another to experience them 
 ourself ; and this I felt, oh ! how keenly ! 
 To strengthen my resolution, 1 pictured the 
 home of my parents, the sadness which I 
 knew must be preying upon them on ac 
 count of my absence, and the flash of joy 
 that would light their faces and warm their 
 hearts on beholding their only son once 
 more seated at their fireside, never to de 
 part again while he or they were blessed 
 with life. I thought over all this, and 
 grew stronger in my new resolve ; and had 
 it not been for the whimsical fear of ridi 
 cule the idle jest of some coxcomb fool, 
 for whose opinion or regard in any other 
 way I cared not a straw it is more 
 than probable this narrative had not been 
 written. 
 
 What a powerful engine is ridicule ! It 
 & the battermg-raui of the mind, and will 
 
 often destroy by a single blow the mighti 
 est fabric of reason. It is used by fools 
 and men whose minds are too imbecile ib 
 cope with the edifice of thought which 
 towers above their limited grasp ; and y<-t 
 the very architect of such construction fears 
 it, as does the poor red-man the annihila 
 ting artillery of the pale-face. 
 
 I lay and thought ; and the more I 
 thought, the more restless I became. J 
 rolled to and fro in an agony of mind that 
 at last became intolerable, and I arose. 
 Stealing quietly from the sleeping circle, I 
 proceeded to the creek, and having moist 
 ened my parched and feverish lips, and 
 bathed my heated temples and brow, ] 
 took my way thence to a little bluff on the 
 opposite side, whence I could overlook the 
 valley for a considerable extent. 
 
 Seating myself upon a rock, I gazed 
 around. Below was our camp fire, bright 
 ly burning, beside which I could tracw, 
 with a shadowy indistinctness, the outlines 
 ot the sleeper's dark forms. There th.y 
 lay, all unconscious to the outer world, 
 perhaps enjoying the pleasure of some de 
 lightful dream. How I envied them their 
 sleep i Beyond them, by the same light, 
 I could faintly perceive our animals hop 
 pled, but not picketed, the latter being 
 thought unnecessary quietly grazing. 
 
 It was a warm, still, starlight night. 
 Above me the heavens were brilliantly 
 studded with myriads of shining orlw 
 whose light fell softly and sweetly upon 
 the sleeping earth. Here, not a scild 
 floated in the clear atmosphere ; but in tl*e 
 west I could perceive huge black clouds, 
 lifting their ill-shaped heads above the hor 
 izon, darting forth the red bolts of heaven, 
 while a far-off rumbling sound came jarr 
 ingly upon my ear. 
 
 Fixing my gaze at last in this direction, 
 I sat and watched the rapid progress of an 
 approaching storm. On it came like a 
 mighty squadron, a few fleecy clouds as 
 banners thrown out in advance, behind 
 which flashed and thundered its dread 
 artillery, making the very earth tremble 
 beneath the sound. 
 
 From youth up, the rapid play of light 
 ning had strongly affected my nervous sys 
 tem, and made me a coward ; and now- 
 lonely, sad and gloomy I was in a proper 
 condition to feel its effects more sensibly 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 49 
 
 than ever. Half an hour past, and the 
 rolling clouds had darkened the western 
 heavens, while the almost incessant flashes 
 of fire seemed to set the earth in a blaze, 
 and as often vanishing, left it shrouded in 
 a darkness almost impenetrable. 
 
 Dismal as was the scene, I sat with my 
 eyes rivetted upon it, while a painful sense 
 of awe made my limbs feel weak and my 
 blood move sluggishly through my veins, 
 or rush over me with flashes of feverish 
 heat. Several times I arose with the in 
 tention of returning to camp, but as often 
 resumed my former position, as if enchain 
 ed to the spot by some powerful magic 
 spell. 
 
 On came the storm with startling velo 
 city, and presently I could see the tops of 
 distant trees bending to the blast the rain 
 falling in broad, white sheets, as if about 
 to deluge ^he earth and hear the truly 
 dismal roaring of the rushing winds. I 
 would have returned to my companions 
 now, but our camp afforded no protection, 
 and I fancied myself as safe where I was. 
 At last it broke upon me in all its force ; 
 ard such a storm I never witnessed before, 
 and hope never to again. I feel myself in 
 competent to describe it. The rain fell in 
 torrents ; the wind blew a perfect hurri 
 cane ; and tall, old trees, which had per 
 haps stood for centuries, were broken and 
 uprooted ; while others, together with sur 
 rounding rocks, were shattered by the fiery 
 bolts, whose crashing reports fairly deaf 
 ened me. How I maintained my position 
 why I was not hurled headlong down 
 the cliff is still a mystery to myself. Oc 
 casionally I caught a glimpse of my com 
 panions moving about below, evidently 
 trying to secure their powder from the 
 stomi ; while Huntly was running to and 
 fro in search of his friend, and, to all ap 
 pearance, surprised, alarmed and distress 
 ed. Our animals too had become fright 
 ened, ind, rearing and plunging, they soon 
 broke loose of their tethers, and dashed 
 madly over the plain in every direction. I 
 wouid have joined my companions now, 
 but this had become impossible ; for the 
 rain had already swelled the little creek 
 j between me and them into a mighty stream, 
 | that rolled its dark, angry waters with fury 
 ! below me, and added its sullen roar to the 
 bowlings of the storm. I shouted, but my 
 
 ' voice was lost even to myself in the might 
 ier ones of the furious elements. 
 
 Two hours two long, never-to-be-for 
 gotten hours did the storm rage thus in 
 fury ; and in those two hours me thought I 
 lived a lifetime. Then to my joy it began 
 to abate ; and in half an hour more I again 
 beheld the twinkling stars through rents 
 in the driving clouds ; while the flashing 
 lightning and the roaring thunder gradu 
 ally becoming less and less distinct to eye 
 and ear, told me the devastating storm 
 was fast speeding on toward the east 
 
 I now descended to the creek to join my 
 companions, but finding it too much swol 
 len to attempt a passage with safety, I 
 again ascended the cliff, and shouted to 
 them to assure them of my safety. At 
 first I could not make them hear ; but after 
 repeated trials, I had the satisfaction of 
 receiving an answering shout from Huntly, 
 who immediately set off in the direction 
 whence he supposed my voice proceeded. 
 After a minute's search, during which we 
 both called to each other continually, Hunt 
 ly, was enabled to make out my locality 
 but the creek prevented our meeting dur 
 ing the night. 
 
 At day-break I discovered him and 
 Teddy standing on the opposite side ; and 
 as the flood had a little subsided, I plunged 
 in and swam across not, however, with 
 out much difficulty and danger, nor until 
 the rushing waters had borne me some 
 forty cr fifty yards down the stream. No 
 sooner was I safe on the bank, than Huntly 
 threw his arms around my neck and wept 
 like a child. 
 
 " Thank God ! Frank, my friend, " he 
 exclaimed, " that I am able to clasp you 
 once again ! Oh ! if you could but know 
 my feelings of last night ! I thought you 
 were lost lost to me forever ! " and again 
 he was forced to dash the tears from his 
 eyes. "But tell me, Frank how came 
 you there ? " 
 
 I proceeded to detail every particular. 
 
 "A horrible night to you, too, Frank, " 
 said Huntly, in reply. " But 'hereafter, 
 my friend, you must not steal away from 
 me in this way. If you have trouble*, 
 share them with me." 
 
 Teddy was greatly rejoiced to see m 
 also ; and he got me by the hand, and by 
 the leg, and capered around me like 
 
50 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 delighted child at the same time uttering 
 Carious phrases in his peculiar style, which, 
 in spi f e of all that had happened, did not 
 fail to amuse and sometimes make me laugh 
 aloud. 
 
 I found the trappers surly and grumbling 
 at what they considered their ill-luck be 
 ing for the most part in the loss of a few 
 pounds of powder, and their mules all of 
 which had escaped, as well as our horses. 
 
 " Augh ! " grunted Black' George as I 
 came up. " Glad to see you, boy. Thought 
 vou'd gone under. It was a screecher of 
 a night, wasn't it? Lost heaps of powder, 
 
 and all the critters gone to the . 
 
 Augh ! " 
 
 My powder had fortunately been so 
 packed that nearly all was safe ; and as I 
 had a great store on hand, I gave each of 
 the mountaineers a pound, which served 
 to put them in a better humor. 
 
 We now separated and set off in differ 
 ent directions to hunt our animals, with the 
 understanding that this should be our ren 
 dezvous. We had a wearisome time of it, 
 and it was late in the day before we all got 
 together again. All, however, had been 
 recovered ; and mounting, we set forward 
 once more rather briskly, and encamped 
 some ten miles distant. 
 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OUR COURSE ALONG THE PLATTE KILLING 
 
 AND DRESSING A BUFFALO THEIR PATHS 
 
 THE PKAJRIE-DOG THEIR TOWNS, AP 
 PEARANCE, HABITS, FOOD, ETC. THE SOL 
 ITARY TOWER- CHIMNEY BOCK SCOTT'S 
 
 BLUFFS ORIGIN OF VHE NAME FORT 
 
 LARAMIE ARRIVAL AT ITS APPEARANCE, 
 
 INMATES, ETC. CURIOSITY. 
 
 THE next morning we set forward again, 
 and keeping a northwesterly course, mostly 
 over a rolling prairie, encamped on the 
 second night on the banks of the Nebras 
 ka or Platte river. This river is very shal 
 low, and flows over a sandy bed. We 
 found the bottom at this point some three 
 or four miles wide, devoid of a tree, and 
 covered with excellent grass, besprinkled 
 with a salinous substance, which caused 
 our animals to devour it greedily. 
 
 Setting our faces westward, ve now fol 
 
 lowed the course of the Platte for sevei^l 
 days, without a single incident occurring 
 worth being recorded. The Platte bot 
 toms we found to vary from two to four 
 miles in breadth, and in some places ouj 
 animals fared slimly. On the fourth da} 
 Fiery Ned shot a fat buffalo, which was 
 the first I had ever seen close at hand. 
 This animal dies very hard, even when 
 mortally wounded ; and an individual un- 
 acquainted with its nature or, as th ' 
 mountaineers would term him, a " greeu 
 horn" though never so good a marks- I 
 man, would assuredly fail, using the hunt- ' 
 ers' phrase, " to throw him in his tracks." 
 One would suppose that a shot about the 
 head or central part of the body would I 
 prove fatal but nothing is more errone 
 ous. To kill a bull, the ball must either ] 
 divide his spine, or enter his body behind j 
 the shoulder, a few inches ab<^e the bris- ] 
 ket this being the only point through 
 which his heart and lungs are accessible, i 
 And even here, the vital part of all vitality, 
 with a ball directly through his heart, I 
 was informed by one of the hunters that 
 he had known an old bull run half a mile 
 before falling. 
 
 The buffalo killed was a fat cow ; and j 
 turning her upon her back, the trappers 
 proceeded to dress her in the real moun 
 tain style. Parting tne skin from head to 
 tail with a sharp knife, directly across the 
 belly, they peeled down the hide on eithei 
 side, and then taking from her the " hump 
 rib," "tenderloin," "fleece," "tongue," 
 and "boudins," they left the remainder, 
 with the exception of the skin, which was 
 thrown across one of the mules, to the 
 vigilant care of the wolves. The "bou- 
 din," a portion of the entrails, is consider 
 ed by the mountaineers the titbit of all. 
 Slightly browned over a fire, it is swallowed, 
 yard after yard, without being separated, 
 and, I may add, without resulting in the 
 least inconvenience to the gormand. 
 
 Through this section of country I ob 
 served innumerable buffalo paths, running 
 from the bluffs to the river, and crossing 
 each other in every direction. These paths 
 present a striking appearance to one unused 
 to the sight, being more than a foot in 
 width, some three or four inches in depth, 
 and as smooth and even as if cut artificially. 
 
 But to Huntly and myself- the incwt 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 amusing and interesting sights of all we 
 saw on the route, were the towns of the 
 prairie-dog, which are to be found at dif 
 ferent intervals along the whole course of 
 the sandy Platte, and through several of 
 which we passed. The first one we came 
 to, so astonished and interested us, that 
 Iluntly, Teddy and myself dismounted to 
 take a closer view, while the trappers, being 
 of course familiar with such things, steadi 
 ly pursued their way. 
 
 The prairie-dog is above the size of a 
 large gray "nuirrel, somewhat longer than 
 a Guinea-pig, of a brownish or sandy hue, 
 with a head- somewhat resembling a bull 
 dog. Being of a social disposition, they 
 collect too-eiher in lary-e bodies, and build 
 
 
 
 their towns on a gravelly plain, some of 
 them being miles in extent, and with a 
 population equalling the largest cities of 
 df America, or even Europe. Their earth 
 en houses, which are from two to three 
 feet in hight, are made in the form of a 
 cone. They are entered by a hole in the 
 top or apex, which descends vertically 
 some three feet or more, and then takes an 
 oblique course and connects with others in 
 ev;ry direction. Their streets are laid 
 out with something approaching regularity, 
 and they evidently have a sort of police, 
 and laws to govern them, not unlike those 
 of superior and more enlightened beings. 
 In some of the towns, a house larger than 
 ordinary occupies a central position, which 
 is tenanted by a sleek, fat dog, supposed to 
 be the presiding functionary of the place, 
 whose sole employment appears to be in 
 sunning himself outside his domicil, and 
 noting with patriarchal gravity the doings 
 of his inferiors. 
 
 The town which myself and companions 
 halted to examine, was one of the larger 
 class, and covered an area, to the best of 
 my judgment, of at least live hundred 
 acres. On our approach, a certain portion 
 of the little fellows ran to' the mouth of 
 their holes, and squatting down commenc 
 ed a shrill barking, not unlike that made 
 by a toy-dog whereupon the pups and 
 smaller sized animals betook themselves 
 with the utmost despatch to their burrows. 
 A nearer approach drove the more daring 
 under cover, whence they took the liberty 
 of peeping out to examine us, and occa 
 sionally of uttering a shrill bark, as a gen 
 
 tle hint that our company was anything but 
 agreeable. 
 
 The food of these interesting little fel 
 lows consists, for the most part, of prairia 
 grass and roots. They live a life of con 
 stant alarm being watched and pounced 
 upon continually by the wolf, the hawk, the 
 eagle, &c. They are very hospitable to 
 such animals as choose to come and live 
 peaceably among them and the screech 
 owl and rattlesnake are their constant 
 guests ; and it is not unusual, I was told, 
 to find all three burrowed together in one 
 hole. They are sometimes eaten by the 
 Indian and mountaineer. 
 
 Spending an hour or more in examining 
 the town, we remounted our horses and 
 soon overtook the trappers, Teddy observ 
 ing as we quitted the village : 
 
 " Faith, your honors, but thim is' queer 
 bir-r-ds now, isn't they ? Och ! be me 
 mother's hair ! it's like they've bin down 
 to St. Louey and got the notion in their 
 heads and think they can baat the city, 
 the spalpeens ! I'd like 'em to go and 
 sae Dublin, now maybe that 'ud aston 
 ish 'em a wee bit, and give 'em some 
 new idees respicting public idifices, jist. 
 Ochone ! Ireland's the place to laach 
 'em the baastly serpints of bir-r-ds that 
 they is." 
 
 The first natural object of curiosity L be 
 held after crossing the South Fork of the 
 Platte, was the Solitary Tower, opposite 
 which we encamped on the margin of a 
 small stream called Little Creek. This 
 tower, composed of sand and clay, resem 
 bles a stone edifice, and being some seven 
 or eight hundred feet in hight, can be seen 
 at a distance of fifteen or twenty miles. 
 To the distant beholder it presents the 
 appearance of some mighty structure of 
 feudal days ; but a near view dispels th 
 illusion, arid the spectator sees before him 
 only a rough, unseemly, but stupendous pile 
 thus verifying the words of the poet, that 
 
 "Distance lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 I was informed by Black George, that this 
 tower could be ascended, though at some 
 risk to the adventurer; and that he and 
 another trapper had made the trial some 
 years before, and spent one cold'winter'a 
 night in one of its damp crevices escap 
 ing by this means a party of hostile savages 
 
THE PRAlKiE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 on his trail. I did not attempt the ascent 
 myself. 
 
 The following day, before noon, we 
 readied Chimney Rock, another natural 
 curiosity, \vh ch can be seen at a distance 
 of thirty mili;s, and which afar off resem 
 bles a shot Lower ; but as you near it, it 
 gradually, assumes the appearance of a 
 liaystack, with a pole protruding from the 
 apex. It is about two hundred feet in 
 hight, and is composed of much the same 
 substance as the Solitary Tower. The 
 rains are gradually wearing it away, and 
 in course of time it will cease to be an ob 
 ject of curiosity. Black George informed 
 me that twenty years before, it was at least 
 a hundred and fifty or two hundred feet 
 above its present elevation. 
 
 Pursuing our journey, we encamped in 
 the evening on Scott's Bluffs, where we 
 found a good spring, and plenty of grass 
 for our animals. As wood was abundant 
 here, we started a fire, and while sitting 
 around discussing our meat and smoking 
 our pipes, the old trapper, who had not 
 been loquacious for several days, observed : 
 
 " Strangers, heyar's what can't look 
 rouua this spot without feelin badly I'll 
 be dog-gone ef I can ! " 
 
 " And why so ? " I asked. 
 
 " Case one o' the almightiest best fellers 
 yotvever seed, went under here. I knowed 
 him like a trump ; and he was one o' them 
 chaps you could bear to talk about real 
 mountain grit, with a hand that u'd make 
 your fingers ache when he squeezed 'em, 
 and a fist that could knock a hole into your 
 upper story and let in the atmospheric ef 
 he didn't like ye. Yes, he was one o' the 
 purtiest men that ever raised hair, throwed 
 buiiler, trapped beaver, swallered " bou- 
 dins," or I'm a liar. But all wouldn't do. 
 Death sot his trap and cotched him, and 
 left jest a few floatin sticks in the shape 
 o' bones to let us know he was a goner. 
 He died right down thar, 'bout six paces 
 from whar you're settin." 
 
 " Tell us the story." 
 
 " It's purty easy told. Him and a heap 
 o' other fellers had bin up on a right smart 
 trade with the Injius, and was comin down 
 this way, going to the States, when a lot o' 
 the cussed varmints jumped on to 'em and 
 stole every blessed thing they had, even to 
 thar guns, powder, meat, and be to 
 
 'em. Well, Jimmy Scott him as I's tell- 
 in about he hadn't bin well for a week, 
 and gittin aground o' fodder fetched him 
 right over the coals. He kicked mighty 
 hard at first ; but tindin it wasn't no use, he 
 gin in, and told them as was with him that 
 his time was up, and he would hev to do 
 the rest o' his trappin in another country, 
 and that they'd best put out while they'd 
 got meat enough on thar bones to make 
 wolves foller 'em. They hated to leave 
 him like darnation but they had to do it ; 
 and so they sot him up agin a rock and 
 vamosed. This was about a mile down on 
 tother side thar ; and arter they'd gone, 
 Jimmy got up and paddled here, whar he 
 laid down and went a wolfin. Nobody 
 ever seed Jimmy Scott arterwards but 
 they found his floatin sticks here, and gin 
 this the name o' Scott's Bluffs." 
 
 The next day, long before sundown, we 
 came in sight of Fort Laramie, where it 
 was the intention of Huntly and mystlf 
 to spend a few days, to refresh ourselves 
 and rest our animals, before attempting the 
 perilous journey of the mountains. On 
 our whole route, from the moment we 
 crossed Kansas river, we had not befn 
 gladdened by the sight of a single white 
 man but ourselves ; and consequently my 
 delight may be imagined, when I beht'jd 
 the walls of this celebrated fortress appeu 
 in the distance, and felt that there at leys! 
 I could rest in safety. 
 
 Fort Laramie stands upon slightly eJc 
 vated ground, some two miles from thr 
 Platte, and on the west bank of Laramie 
 Fork. It is a dirty and clumsy looking 
 edifice, built of adobes,* after the Mexican 
 style, with walls some two feet in thick 
 ness and fifteen in hight, in which are 
 planted posts to support the roof, the whole 
 being covered with a clay-like substance. 
 Through this wall are two gateways, one 
 at the north and the other at the south, 
 and the top is surmounted by a wooden 
 palisade. Over the main or front entrance 
 is a square tower, built also of adobes ; 
 and at two angles, diagonally opposite each 
 other, are large square bastions, so ar 
 ranged as to sweep the four faces of the 
 walls. The center of the fort is an open 
 square, quadrangular in shape, along the 
 
 * Sun-burned bricks. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 53 
 
 des of which are dwellings, store-rooms, 
 Btablr.s, carpenter shops, smith shops, of 
 fices, fec., all fronting upon the inner area. 
 
 This fort belongs to the North American 
 Fur Company, and is a general rendezvous 
 for traders, travelers, trappers, Indians, 
 emigrants, &c., on their way to and from 
 the different trading posts, Oregon and the 
 United States. Here may be found repre 
 sentatives of all nations and colors, meet 
 ing on an equal footing, often drinking and 
 gambling together, many of whom may be 
 put down as implacable enemies, and who, 
 at another time and place, would think 
 nothing of cutting each others' throats. 
 Here occasionally may be seen the Ponka, 
 the Pawnee, the Crow, the Blackfoot, the 
 Sioux and the Shoshone intermingled with 
 the Spaniard, the Frenchman, the Mexican, 
 the Anglo-Saxon, the Dutchman and Xe- 
 gro. The trapper comes in at certain 
 seasons loaded with furs, and receives in 
 exchange for them powder, lead, tobacco, 
 whisky, <fec., at the most exorbitant prices. 
 Then generally follow a few days of dissi 
 pation in feasting, gambling, drunken 
 ness, and sometimes riot when he finds 
 all his hard earnings gone, and he obliged 
 to betake himself again to the mountains, 
 to procure a new supply, to be squandered 
 in the same reckless manner. 
 
 As we rode up to the fort, we noticed 
 several Indians standing outside, carelessly 
 leaning against the mud-covered walls, 
 their persons bedecked with gew-gaws, 
 and their faces bedaubed with paint, look 
 ing surly and ferocious, evidently under the 
 excitement of liquor, and ready at any mo 
 ment, did not their cowardice and fears 
 restrain them, to take the life and scalp of 
 the first white man that should come in 
 their way. Standing among them, and 
 addressing one who from his superiority of 
 costume and equipments I judged to be a 
 chief, was a man of small stature, mostly 
 concealed under a large sarape and broad- 
 brimmed sombrero. 
 
 " H 1 ! " exclaimed Black George, with 
 an indignant scowl : Ef thar aint one o' 
 them infernal Greasers, I wish I may be 
 dogged ! Well, all I've got to say is, he'd 
 better not come foolin round this child, or 
 he'll find his hair lifted. Eh ! Ned ? " 
 
 " Won't nothin short." 
 
 Passing through the gateway, we soon 
 had the satisfaction of seeing our cavallada 
 well disposed of; and entering the com 
 mon reception room, took a friendly drink 
 together; after which, lighting our pipes, 
 (Huntly and myself had already adopted 
 this habit since leaving home,) we strolled 
 around the fortress to gratify our curiosity, 
 and while away the time till supper. 
 
 We found everything in perfect order, 
 all the various compartments cleanly, and 
 the fort well garrisoned by a dozen hardy 
 fellows, each of whom had seen more or 
 less service, and the commander of whom 
 was at least a veteran in experience if not 
 iu years. 
 
 The fort was not crowded by any means 
 it not being the season of year for the 
 traders and trappers to be " in " but still 
 the number of guests was quite respect 
 able. There were a few families of emi 
 grants on their way to Oregon and Cali 
 fornia, and one or two home-sick ones on 
 their return to the United States, looking 
 pale, sickK, and dejected. Some half a 
 dozen Indians, two or three Mexicans, as 
 many French voyageurs, four or five trap 
 pers and. hunters all of whom were re 
 cognized by our companions a brace of 
 Yankee speculators, another of coureur des 
 bois,* together with the squaw-wives and 
 children of the garrison completed, as 
 far as I could judge by a hasty glance, 
 the present occupants of the station. 
 
 On the eastern side of the fort we found 
 an additional wall to the one I have de 
 scribed, which connected with the main 
 one at both extremities, and enclosed 
 ground for stabling and carrell. A large 
 gateway opened into this from the south 
 ern side, and a postern communicated with 
 it from the main enclosure. Here were 
 carrelled a few mules and cattle belonging 
 to the emigrants, while in the stables our 
 own horses were; enjoying the best the 
 country afforded, for which of course we 
 expected to pay at least six prices. In 
 view of this important item, and their in 
 capacity to meet it, the mountaineers had 
 taken care to put their mules on less ex 
 pensive diet. 
 
 In the main enclosure or common, were 
 
 Itinerant trauers or peddlen. 
 
THh PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 several heavy Pittsburgh wagvms, some of 
 which were undergoing repairs at the 
 hands of the various mechanics employed 
 about the station. As we drew near them 
 after leaving the carrel], we noticed that 
 several had left their employment and col 
 lected in a group round some object which 
 we could not make out from where we 
 stood, while others had suspended their 
 labors and were gazing in the same direc 
 tion, evidently on the point of joining their 
 comrades. As by this time Huntly and I 
 xere by ourselves, and our curiosity being 
 excited, we eagerly sprang forward, and 
 elbowing our way through the fast thick 
 ening crowd, to our surprise beheld what 
 I shall proceed to describe in the following 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CURIOUS INDIAN PONY ALARMING RU 
 MOR POMPOSITY THE RENOWNED MOUN 
 TAINEER THE AMUSING MISTAKE THE 
 
 MYSTERIOUS EQUESTRIENNE. 
 
 IN the center of the ring stood an In 
 dian pony of the largest class, and the 
 most beautiful animal I had ever seen. 
 His color was a jet black, and so glossy 
 that it seemed to possess the power of re 
 flection. Every point and limb was per 
 fectly developed, with legs sleek and slim, 
 and a beautifully arched neck, on which 
 was a head that bore the look of conscious 
 superiority and pride. His trappings were 
 in perfect keeping with all the rest. A 
 small, delicately formed Spanish saddle, 
 designed for an equestrienne, surmounted 
 his back, underneath which was a saddle 
 blanket of wampum, most beautifully 
 wrought with fine., shiny beads of all col 
 ors, into various birds and flowers, and 
 which being long and hanging low, almost 
 enveloped him in its ample folds. Even 
 his bridle, martingales, reins, and belly- 
 girth, were worked in the same beautiful 
 manner, with beads of red, white and blue. 
 He was walking to and fro, snuffing the 
 uir, pawing the ground, and occasionally 
 turning his gaze upon the crowd Avith a 
 proud look, as if conscious he was an ob 
 ject both of curiosity and admiration. 
 
 Various were the remarks of surprise 
 
 and delight which vff-rv, pa c sed upon him 
 by the excited spectators, some of whom 
 ventured to pat his sleek ueck and rub his 
 head. At length one strapping fellow 
 caught him by the bridle, mid placed his 
 hand upon the saddle as if w ; th (he inten 
 tion of vaulting upon his back-. But this, 
 according to the pony's notion, T^as carry 
 ing familiarity a little too far; and with a 
 loud neigh, a rear and plunge, be tore 
 himself away, nor would he afterward 
 permit a hand to touch him, although he 
 still remained quietly in the ring. 
 
 "By heavens!" exclaimed Huntly, 
 "saw you ever the like, Frank? saw yov 
 any thing of the brute creation so beauti 
 ful?" 
 
 " Never in my life," I replied ; " and J 
 assure you I am anxious to behold his 
 rider for by the saddle it is a female." 
 
 " True ; I did not think of that ; and it 
 she prove half as beautiful, i' faith I fear 
 I shall find myself in love with her." 
 
 "Notwithstanding the lovely unknown 
 eh! Charley?" 
 
 " Come, come no home thrusts now,'* 
 answered Huntly, good humoredly. " De 
 not rub a part already too tender." 
 
 "Well, heyar's what's seed a good manj 
 sights in my time, but I'll be dog-gone ef 
 ever* I seed any thing o' the hoss kind ar 
 could hold a primin to this critter," said 
 the voice of Black George, who had come 
 up behind us. 
 
 " But who and where is the rider ? " J 
 asked, turning to him. 
 
 " Don't know whar, but spect it's some 
 squaw or other augh ! " 
 
 " The rider is an Indian female, the 
 most perfect I ever beheld," rejoined 
 stranger at my elbow, and whom I recog 
 nized as one of the speculators .previously 
 mentioned. 
 
 "Where is she ? where is she ?" cries' 
 several voices, before I had time to respond 
 to my informant ; and immediately the 
 stranger became the center of observation 
 
 " She is now closetted with the com 
 mander of the garrison." 
 
 " Then perhaps she brings important 
 news ? " observed Huntly. 
 
 " Nothing more proba"ble, sir," was the 
 reply. "There is a good deal of dissatis 
 faction among the Indians, I understand." 
 
 "Indeed!" I replied. "And do yo> 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 55 
 
 think the route westward particularly dan 
 gerous at this time ? " 
 
 " I do ; for rumors have reached us that 
 the Crows, the Oglallahs, the Gros Ven- 
 tres, the Cheyennes, and one or two other 
 tribes, have vowed to take vengeance on 
 all the whites that fall in their way ; and 
 it is said, 1 do not. know with how much 
 truth, that the Oglallahs are out on the 
 Black Hill range and in the vicinity of the 
 lied Buttes, while the Crows are skulking 
 through the valley of the iSweetwater." 
 
 "Why this is alarming, truly," I re 
 joined ; " and certainly discouraging to 
 those who, like ourselves, are going merely 
 for adventure and amusement." 
 
 "if adventure or amusement is your 
 onlv object in crossing the Rocky mount 
 ains, take my advice, young men, and 
 either turn buck or remain where you 
 are." 
 
 "And yet why should they turn back ? " 
 said a voice behind us. "All men ar born 
 to die, and it's not probable any will go 
 before thar time. Courage and resolution 
 ar every thing in this part of the world." 
 
 I turned round and beheld in the speak 
 er a young man of small stature and ro 
 bust frame, over whose clean-shaven face 
 time had not drawn a wrinkle. His fea 
 tures were regular and prepossessing. 
 The general expression of his intelligent 
 countenance was so reserved and unob 
 trusive, that I readily felt surprised he 
 should have hazarded the remarks just 
 quoted, without first being called upon for 
 his opinion. To all appearance he had not 
 seen over twenty-live winters, though in 
 reality he might have been much older, 
 so difficult was it to determine by his coun 
 tenance. He had light hair a keen, rest 
 less, eagle-like gray eye an ample fore 
 head and a skin which, but for exposure 
 U> all kinds of weather, had doubtless been 
 as fair and as soft as a lady's. Though 
 small in stature and small limbed, as 1 
 said before, I noticed there was in all a 
 beautiful symmetry^ a perfect adaptation 
 of one part to another. His limbs, though 
 slender, were plump and wiry, with mus 
 cles of iron ; and being someihing of a 
 connoiseur in such matters, I at once put 
 him down as an active, and, for his inches, 
 a powerful man. He was costumed in the 
 usual mountain style, and I judged had 
 
 just entered the fort, as I did not remem 
 her having seen him before. 
 
 As he spoke, I noticed that several of 
 the bystanders whispered to others, and 
 that instantly all eyes became fixed upon 
 him, with an air of curiosity which I could 
 not account for there being nothing par 
 ticularly remarkable in his appearance, as 
 I have shown by my description. The 
 stranger to whom he had addressed his re 
 marks, coolly examined him from head to 
 foot, as one who felt a little nettled at his 
 interference, and wished to assure himself 
 of the exact importance that should be at 
 tached to his words before he ventured a 
 reply. By a slight curl of the lip into 
 something like a sneer, I saw at once he 
 was not a judge of human nature, and had 
 underrated the new comer not a little. 
 He was himself a supercilious man, who 
 delighted in giving advice with a patroni 
 zing air, and consequently did not care to 
 have his wise counsel questioned by what 
 he evidently considered an interloper. He 
 therefore, after taking a complete and rath 
 er insolent survey of the other's person, 
 replied rather pompously : 
 
 "Why should they turn back, say you ? 
 Because there is danger, great danger, to 
 them if they advance farther, as any one 
 who is at all acquainted with this part of 
 the country must be aware. If you had 
 traveled it as much as /have, sir, (there 
 was an important stress on the pronoun,) 
 you would, I fancy, understand the value 
 of my advice ; but young men (the speak 
 er was about thirty) on their first hunt are 
 apt to be very knowing and imprudent 
 and, sir, I may add. without wishing to be 
 personal, a little impudent also." 
 
 Here the speaker straightened himself 
 up with an air of importance, and glanced 
 around upon the spectators, where he saw 
 many a quiet smile, which he was fain to 
 attribute to silent approvals of his own 
 lofty and conclusive argument. The new 
 comer also smiled slightly, as he quietly 
 asked : 
 
 "May I inquire, sir, how much of the 
 country you've traveled?" 
 
 "Thousands of miles, young man thou 
 sands of miles, sir ! Yes, sir ! 1 have 
 been twice to Oregon, and once to Cali 
 fornia." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 4 Thiu all, sir ! Umpli ! that, let me 
 tell you, is a good deal, sir, as you will 
 find when you have gone over the half 
 of it." 
 
 " I think I have already at least that's 
 my impression, "was the somewhat nettling 
 answer, which was rendered none the less 
 so to the speculator, by a few half suppress 
 ed titters and one hearty laugh from the 
 crowd. 
 
 " Indeed ! young man. Pray be so good 
 as to inform us where you have been ? " 
 
 " It would be much easier to tell you 
 whar I've not been," answered the other 
 pleasantly. " But I may say, without fear 
 of contradiction, that I've seen nearly every 
 foot of ground from the Yellow Stone to 
 the Spanish Peaks from the Mississippi 
 to the Pacific ocean." 
 
 " Your name, stranger ? " said the other, 
 a little crest-fallen. 
 
 " I'm called KIT CARSON." 
 
 At the quiet mention of that renowned 
 name, better known on the mountains and 
 over the broad West than that of any other 
 living being, and which was as familiar to 
 me as a household word, I involuntarily 
 gave a start of surprise, while three deaf 
 ening cheers went up from the crowd, 
 mingled with boisterous shouts of laughter, 
 to the no small chagrin and mortification 
 of the pompous speculator, who muttered 
 something which to me sounded very much 
 like an oath. 
 
 Here, then, stood the famous Kit Carson! 
 a being I had long had a secret desire to 
 behold, but whom I had always pictured 
 to myself as huge, rough, brawny and fe- 
 ocious. Nor could I bring myself to re 
 alize that the person before me was that 
 same incarnate devil in Indian fight I had 
 heard him represented, and who had killed 
 and scalped more savages in the same 
 number of years than any two hunters 
 west of the old Mississippi. 
 
 When the laugh and tumult had some 
 what subsided, the stranger, anxious to 
 escape ridicule, observed : 
 
 " Gentlemen, I acknowledge my ver 
 dancy, and feel myself indebted to you a 
 treat. Kit Carson, your hand ! and how 
 wrilJ you have yours mixed or clear ?" 
 
 Another burst of merriment broke from 
 tlift crowd, with three hearty cheers for the 
 speculator and the prospect of a speedy 
 
 " wet " all round. Suddenly the boister 
 ous tumult subsided as if by magic, and 
 not a man ventured a remark above a 
 whisper, while the eyes of each became 
 fixed upon some object on the opposite side 
 of the square. 
 
 " Stand back ! stand back ! She comes ! 
 she conies! " I heard whispered on all sides 
 of me. 
 
 " Look, Frank look ! " said Huntly, in 
 a suppressed voice, clutching my arm ner 
 vously. 
 
 I did look ; and what I beheld I feel 
 myself incompetent to describe and do 
 the subject justice. Before me, perfectly 
 erect, her tiny feet scarce seeming to touch 
 the ground she trod, was a being which 
 required no great stretch of imagination to 
 fancy just dropped from some celestial 
 sphere. She was a little above medium in 
 stature, as straight as an arrow, and with 
 a form as symmetrical and faultless as ;i 
 Venus. Twenty summers (I could not re 
 alize she had ever seen a winter) had 
 molded her features into what I may term 
 a classic beauty, as if chiselled from mar 
 ble by the hand of a master. Her skin 
 was dark, but not more so than a Creole's, 
 and with nothing of the brownish or red 
 dish hue of the native Indian. It wai 
 beautifully clear too, and apparently of a 
 velvet-like softness. Her hair was a glos 
 sy black, and her hazel eyes were large 
 and lustrous, fringed with long lashes, and 
 arched by tine, pencilled brows. Her pro- 
 tile was straight from forehead to chin, 
 and her full face oval, lighted with a soul 
 of feeling, fire and intelligence. A well 
 formed mouth, guarded by two plump lips, 
 was adorned by a beautiful set of teeth, 
 partially displayed when she spoke or 
 smiled. A slightly aquiline nose gave an 
 air of decision to the whole countenance, 
 and rendered its otherwise almost too 
 effeminate expression, noble, lofty and 
 commanding. 
 
 Her costume was singular, and such as 
 could not fail to attract universal attention. 
 A scarlet waistcoat concealed a well devel 
 oped bust, to which were attached short 
 sleeves and skirts the latter coming bare 
 ly to the knees, something after the fashion 
 of the short frock worn by the danseuse of 
 the present day. Thesr skirts were show 
 ily embroidered tfith wampum, and a 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 humpum belt passed around her waist, in 
 orhicii glittered a silver-mounted Spanish 
 dirk. From the frock downward, leggins 
 and moccasins beautifully wrought into 
 various figures with beads, enclosed the 
 legs and feet. A tiara of many colored 
 feathers, to which were attached little bells 
 that tinkled as she walked, surmounted 
 the head ; and a bracelet of pearl on either 
 well rounded arm, with a necklace of the 
 same material, completed her costume and 
 ornaments. 
 
 With a proud carriage, and an unabash 
 ed look from her dark, eloquent eye, she 
 advanced a few paces, glanced loftily 
 around upon the surprised and admiring- 
 spectators, and then struck the palms of 
 her hands together in rapid succession. 
 In a moment her Indian pony came pranc 
 ing to her side. With a single bound she 
 vaulted into the saddle, and gracefully wa 
 ving us a silent adieu, instantly vanished 
 through the open gateway. 
 
 Rushing out of the fort, the excited crowd 
 barely caught one more glimpse of her 
 beautiful form, ere it became completely 
 lost in the neighboring forest. 
 
 " Who is she ? who can she be ? " cried 
 a dozen persons at once. 
 
 " PERRAEIE FLOWER, or I'm a nigger," 
 shouted a well known voice in reply. 
 
 I turned and beheld Black George al 
 ready working himself up to a great pitch 
 of excitement. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PRAIRIE FLOWER AND HER ALARMING INTEL- 
 
 LICEXCE SUPEUSr TIOX SPECULATION 
 
 THE DILEMMA KFT KARSON's SUGGES 
 TION THE DECISION TEACHING TEDDV 
 
 THE MARCH THE SCOUTS THE HALT AND 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR FIGHT. 
 
 THE news brought by Prairie Flower 
 we learned in the course of the evenino- 
 was of the utmost importance being to 
 the effe-jt that a large band of warriors, 
 composed chiefly of Oglallahs and Chey- 
 ennes, had taken up their position in the 
 vicinity of Bitter Cottonwood a place 
 some twenty-five miles distant and had 
 vowed to cut off all the whites that came 
 tiifti way, either going to or comino- from 
 
 Oregon. The result of this information 
 was to cause no little alarm in the station, 
 particularly among the emigrants, who 
 
 1 ., 
 
 being for the greater part composed of 
 women and children, were consequently in 
 no fit condition to brave the assaults of a 
 blood-thirsty body of savages. 
 
 But who was Prairie Flower the mys 
 terious messenger that belonged to the 
 Indians, and yet came like a guardian 
 angel to warn the whites of their danger? 
 Who was she indeed ! None could answer. 
 To all save the commander of the garrison 
 and Black George, (who now had to re 
 hearse his remarkable story a dozen times, 
 to gratify the curiosity of the excited in 
 quirers, and who became a personage of 
 no little importance in consequence,) she 
 was an utter stranger ; and for all auy one 
 knew to the contrary, might have dropped 
 from the skies, a winged being of a fairei 
 realm. The commander of the garrison, 
 whom I shall term Captain Balcolm, had 
 seen her once before, when she came to 
 warn him of the Sioux, who were meditat 
 ing a descent upon the fort, a surprise and 
 general massacre of its inmates, and whose 
 design by this timely notice was thwarted ; 
 but regarding who she was, how she gained 
 
 o o o 
 
 her information, to what tribe she belonged, 
 or why she was permitted to do these good 
 acts and escape he could give no satis 
 factory reply. On both occasions she had 
 required a private audience with him ; and 
 on the former one had sent a request to 
 him by an Indian half-breed, to meet her 
 in a little grove some hundred yards dis 
 tant from the walls of the fortress. 
 
 At first he had refused to go unattended, 
 for fear of some stratagem to take his life 
 or make him prisoner. The messenger 
 had gone back evidently dissatisfied, but 
 in a few minutes had returned with a skin 
 parchment, on which the same request, aa 
 orally delivered, was written with a charred 
 stick, with the additional statement that 
 the writer was a female, and that the newa 
 she had to convey was of great moment. 
 
 Ashamed to show further cowardice, he 
 had armed himself to the teeth, and call 
 ing his garrison around him, had notified 
 them to be in readiness to protect the furl 
 if besieged, and avenge him on the half- 
 breed, whom he left with them as hostage, 
 in case he returned not within two hours-- 
 
58 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; D R , 
 
 merely slating, by way of explanation, that 
 he van going' to hold a private conference 
 with a distinguished chief. The result of 
 this conference, as before stated, had been 
 to save the lives of all, and defeat a well 
 laid scheme of their enemies. 
 
 Captain Balcolm furthermore stated, that 
 Prairie Flower, as she called herself, spoke 
 the English language well and fluently ; 
 and that to his inquiry regarding herself 
 and tribe, she had answered with a smile, 
 that she must ever remain a mysterious 
 being to him and all of his race ; that as to 
 tribe.she found herself a welcome guest with 
 all came and went as she chose without 
 question or hindrance and that the lan 
 guage of each she understood and spoke 
 as readily as her mother tongue. 
 
 " In conclusion," added the gallant cap 
 tain, " I must say, that with all ray expe 
 rience, I have never seen so perfect, so 
 mysterious, so incomprehensible a being 
 as herself. Were I superstitious, I should 
 unquestionably be tempted to doubt my 
 senses, and believe her a supernatural visi- 
 ter ; but I have touched her, and know 
 that she is flesh and blood." 
 
 Many there were in the fort, however, 
 who had not so much faith in her identity 
 with an earthly habitant as the captain ; 
 and I often heard confidential whispers 
 to the effect, that she was a being from 
 another realm, who had assumed the mor 
 tal shape for the time, merely to bring 
 about some special design of the Great 
 Spirit; and that when said design 1 should 
 be accomplished, she would never be seen 
 again by living mortal. 
 
 The Indian, it is well known to all who 
 know anything of his history, is the most 
 superstitious creature on earth, and be 
 lieves in the direct interference of spirits, 
 in bodily shape or otherwise, on any and 
 every momentous occasion ; and as the 
 trapper or hunter is but little removed from 
 him by civilization, and not a whit by 
 knowledge gained from letters, it is hardly 
 reasonable to suppose that he would im 
 bibe ideas at war with those among whom 
 the most of his eventful life is spent. In 
 his earliest venture, he learns and adopts 
 the habits of his enemy, and in some cases 
 it would seem his very nature also ; and the 
 result is, that he becomes at last neither 
 more nor less than what I may venture to 
 
 term a civilized savage. And here I may 
 remark, en passant, that your real, bona 
 tide mountaineer, rarely looks beyond tho 
 lodge of some favorite tribe for a partnei 
 to share his toils and rear his progeny ; 
 and to the truth of this assertion, e v en the 
 garrison of Fort Laramie bore striking evi 
 dence ; for scarcely a wife -among them, 
 but was a full-blooded squaw nor a child, 
 but bore the cross of the red man and 
 white. 
 
 Various were the speculations that nigh*, 
 regarding Prairie Flower and ho alarming 
 intelligence. The truthfulness of the latter 
 none seemed to question, howe/er much 
 they might the identity of the for,(/jr with 
 the race called mortal. That thb Indiana 
 were at Bitter Cottonwood in great force, 
 was therefore a mutter beyond dispute 
 and the question was what should DC dono 
 under the circumstances ? io remain ia- 
 active, was only to act the rvrt of cowards, 
 doom a portion of their ow/ race to certain 
 destruction, augment the confidence of the 
 wily foe in his own resources, and conse 
 quently raise his hopes svith the flush of 
 success, and increase his daring and au 
 dacity. While, on the other hand, to assail 
 him in all his strength in his own strong 
 hold, with only a handful of men, was like 
 rushing unarmed into the lion's den and 
 courting speedy annihilation. In this di 
 lemma what was to be done ? Something, 
 all admitted, must be done, and that quick 
 ly but what that something was, no^f 
 became a matter >of serious deliberation. 
 Some proposed one thing, and some ano 
 ther, and the discussion waxed warm, and 
 seemed likely to be protracted indefinitely, 
 without resulting in the agreement of any 
 two to the proposal of any other two. 
 
 At length Kit Carson, who had sat and 
 listened attentively without venturing a re 
 mark, observed : 
 
 "Say what you will, comrades, thar is 
 after all but one way of settling this affair, 
 
 and that is to pitch into the varmints 
 
 and lift their hair. I've had a little expe 
 rience in my time, if I am young in years, 
 and may safely say I've never knowed an 
 Indian yet as wasn't a coward, when as 
 sailed in a vigorous manner by a deter 
 mined pale-face. I've rode right among 
 thar lodges before now, and alone, single- 
 handed, raised a top-knot in full view of 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 59 
 
 fifty able bodied warriors, and their squaws 
 and pappooses. Now if I could do this 
 myself, it argues favorably for an attack 
 upon them in numbers." 
 
 " But what, then, do you propose ? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 " Why, sir, to arm and mount on good 
 horses a dozen or fifteen of us, dash into 
 them, and fight our way out." 
 
 As. lie said this, his brow wrinkled, his 
 eyes (lashed, and his whole countenance 
 exhibited traces of that fiery, reckless 
 daring, which, together with its opposite 
 coolness and great presence of mind, had 
 already rendered him so famous in the wil 
 derness. I saw at once, that however mild 
 and quiet he might appear when not ex 
 cited, it only needed an occasion like the 
 present to bring out his latent energies 
 and make him a terrible foe to contend 
 with. 
 
 "Well," I rejoined, "although I came 
 merely for adventure, and beyond that 
 have no object in pursuing my way fur 
 ther, yet I will readily volunteer rny ser 
 vices in a case of such emergency." 
 
 " And I," responded Huntly quickly. 
 
 " Your hands, gentlemen !" said Car 
 son. " I took you for men, and I see I 
 was not mistaken. Who next? " 
 
 This rapid decision produced an electri 
 cal effect upon all, and in a moment a doaen 
 affirmative answers responded to the chal 
 lenge, while each, eager to get ahead of ; 
 hift neighbor, now pressed around the 
 young, famous, and daring mountaineer. 
 
 In less than half an hour, all prelimi 
 naries were settled, and sixteen hardy, 
 able-bodied men were mustered into the 
 ranks. These included the four trappers 
 who had been our companions, together 
 with Huntly, Teddy and myself. 
 
 It was then agreed that Kit Carson 
 should be our leader, and that on the fol 
 lowing day we should mount ourselves on ! 
 the best horses that could be procured, and 
 taking a roundabout course, should ap 
 proach the savages as near as possible 
 without being discovered, and await, the 
 night to commence our attack. The mat 
 ter settled, we retired to rest, some of us 
 for the last time before taking that final 
 sleep which knows no waking. 
 
 Rolling myself in a buffalo skin, I threw 
 myself upon the ground but it was a long 
 
 time before I could close my eyes in slum 
 ber. Thoughts of what another night 
 might bring forth, kept me awake. 1 
 might be lying cold and dead upon the 
 earth, a prey to wild beasts or what was 
 more terrifying, be a living captive to a 
 merciless foe, doomed to the awful tor 
 tures of the stake. I thought too of home 
 of Lilian of ilie mysterious Prairie 
 Flower and in. tlio confusion of all these, 
 fell asleep, to find them strangely com 
 mingled in my dreams. 
 
 The morning broke bright and beauti 
 ful ; and' ere the sun had more than gilded 
 the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains, 
 we were all astir, preparing for our haz 
 ardous expedition. With the assistance 
 of Captain Balcolm, we succeeded in mus 
 tering sixteen fine horses, including of 
 course those we had brought with us. We 
 then armed ourselves to the teeth, with 
 rifles, pistols, knives and tomahawks, and 
 partaking of a savory breakfast tendered 
 us by the gallant commander of the garri 
 son, prepared ourselves to sally forth. 
 
 Before we departed, however, I had a 
 task, which proved far more amusing than 
 desirable, in explaining to Teddy the prop 
 er method of using his rifle and pistols, and 
 the manner in which he must conduct him 
 self in the forthcoming fight. Having 
 slicvfri him how to load, prime and sight 
 the former weapon, I discharged it at a 
 target, and ordered him to imitate my ex 
 ample with all the despatch possible. 
 
 " Jabers ! " shouted Teddy in great glee, 
 scampering off to the target to make an 
 examination of my shot. 
 
 In a moment he returned, bring-in"- it with 
 
 O O 
 
 him ; and pointing triumphantly to a bul 
 let-hole which he found in its center, he 
 said : 
 
 " Troth, your honor, but thim same 
 shooters is beauthiful things, now, for mur 
 thering the baastiy blaggards of Injins, 
 jist. Here, now, ye's boured a howle 
 right cintral as asy as meself could do wid 
 a gimlet, and yees a standing there too all 
 the whiles ! Be me sowl too ! an' now 1 
 renumbers I didn't sae the ball at all, at 
 all, though I looked mighty sharp at it all 
 the time wid my two ej%s. Howly inur- 
 ther ! but Aminca is a great counthry 
 now, barring the tieving baasts of savage* 
 that's in it." 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 Something like an hour was spent in 
 making Teddy familiar with the rifle, at 
 the end of which, I had the satisfaction of 
 finding him tit for duty. By this time ail 
 save he and I were in their saddles; an I 
 hastily mounting, we joine I the cavalcade 
 Carson in the van, and amid three hearty 
 cheers from the regular garrison (most of 
 whom remained to protect the station). 
 and earnest prayers from all for our safety 
 and success in the coming contest we 
 quitted the fort. 
 
 Shaping our course along the bank of 
 the river, we advanced some ten or fifteen 
 miles over the regular Oregon route, when 
 we came to a place called Big Spring, 
 which takes its name from a large spring 
 of water gushing out at the base of a steep 
 hill, some quarter of a mile below the 
 traveled road. Here we halted and held 
 a council of war regarding our further 
 progress, which resulted in the decision to 
 quit the road at this point, and, by stri 
 ding off to the left, keeping ourselves cov 
 ered as much as possible in the wood, 
 endeavor to gain a safe lodgment near the 
 Indian camp, and remain quiet till after 
 nightfall, when we must be guided wholly 
 by circumstances. It was also thought 
 prudent to throw out a few scouts in ad 
 vance, lest we unknowingly should enter 
 an ambuscade and all be cut off. For 
 this purpose Carson dismounted, and ap 
 pointing me his lieutenant, gave me pri 
 vate instructions regarding the route, and 
 at what point, provided he had not joined 
 us meantime. [ was to hah and await him. 
 Then ordering two Canadian-French voy 
 age urs to dismount also, he said a few 
 words to them in a jargon I did not un 
 derstand, and in another moment all three 
 had separated, and were buried in the 
 surrounding wood at so many different 
 points of compass. 
 
 Leading the unridden horses of the 
 scouts, we slowly picked our way over 
 rough and sometimes dangerous ground, 
 keeping a sharp lookout on every side for 
 fear of surprise, until the sun had reached 
 within an hour and a half of the horizon, 
 when we came to a beautiful little open 
 plat, covered wiilf rich green grass and 
 blooming wild tlowers, in the center of 
 wl-ich bubbled up a cool crystal spring, 
 forming a sparkling little rivulet, and the 
 
 whole of which was surrounded by a dense 
 thicket, not more than a hundred yards 
 distant at any point. This beautiful spot 
 to me seemed the oasis of the desert ; and 
 being to the best of my judgment the one 
 described by Kit, where I was to await 
 him, I accordingly ordered a halt. Dis 
 mounting and refreshing ourselves at the 
 
 . 
 
 spring, \ve watered our animals and al 
 lowed them to graze around us, holding 
 fast to the bridle reins the while, pre 
 pared to remount at a moment's notice or 
 the first sign of danger. 
 
 Half an hour passed in this way, and 
 some of the mountaineers were becoming 
 impatient, when, to our great delight, we 
 beheld the welcome visage of Carson, as 
 he glided noiselessly into the open plat and 
 rejoined us. And, singular enough ! al 
 most at the same mosnent the two voya- 
 geurs made their appearance at different 
 points, not one of the three having seen 
 either of the others since their parting from 
 us in the morning. 
 
 " Well, boys," said Carson, thar'll have 
 to be some warm doings to a certainty ; 
 and those of you who aint prepared to lose 
 your scalps, had better be backing out or 
 getting ready as soon as convenient." 
 
 " Have you seen the Indians ?" asked 
 Huntley. 
 
 " Well I have, and know Prairie Flower 
 didn't lie either. Thar ar three distinct 
 lodges of them composed of Sioui', Chey- 
 enues and Blackfeet at least to the best 
 of judgment, for I didn't like ventur 
 ing too close. They are <nmped in a 
 little fcollow just below Bitter Cottonwood, 
 not more than three miles distant, and 
 evidently have no suspicirn of our being 
 near them." 
 
 " Well, what is now to Le done ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Wait till I've had <j. t/ik with these 
 Canadians." 
 
 With this Kit called t\\e scouts aside, 
 and after a few minutes' conversation, re 
 turned to me and said : 
 
 " La Fanche and Gi/nois both report, 
 they've seen no Indiaa signs to alarm, 
 from which I argue, tl, at thinking them 
 selves secure where th<:y ar, the savages 
 haven't taken thar usual precaution t< 
 send out scouts. Regarding the plan of 
 attack, I think we'd better let our hor* 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 61 
 
 feed here till dark, and then ride through 
 the forest for a couple of miles or so, cache 
 them, and take it afoot. I've got the plan 
 fixed in my head, and will tell you more 
 then. And now let's feed and smoke 
 while we've got time." 
 
 We had provided ourselves with a good 
 supply of jerk, and as none of us had 
 eaten a morsel since leaving the fort, we 
 proceeded to satisfy the demands of na 
 ture. This done, we lighted our pipes 
 and smoked and talked till the shades of 
 night warned us to be again on the move. 
 Guided by Kit, we entered the thicket 
 and advanced slowly, cautiously, and si 
 lently, for the better part of an hour, 
 when we came to a dense cover of cot- 
 tonwood. 
 
 " Halt and rope," said Kit, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 In a moment each man was on the 
 ground, and engaged in attaching his horse 
 securely to a tree, though so dark was it 
 here that everything had to be done by 
 the sense of touch. 
 
 "See that all your arms ar about you, 
 and ready, and then follow me, Indian file," 
 said Carson again ; and in less than three 
 minutes, with stealthy tread, sixteen de 
 termined men, one after another, glided 
 from the thicket into an open wood, like so 
 many specters stalking from the tombs of 
 the dead. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IIIE EVENING'S CAMP OUR STEPS RETRACED 
 OUR SECOND ADVANCE TERRIBLE AM 
 BUSCADE THE BLOODY CONTEST KIT CAR- 
 SON'S WONDERFUL FEATS REINFORCEMENT 
 
 OF THE ENEMT IMMENSE SLAUGHTER 
 
 MY HORSE KILLED A FOOT ENCOUNTER 
 
 DESPAIR KIT'S EFFORT TO SAVE ME 
 
 UNCONSCIOUSNESS 
 
 SOME three-fourths of amile brought us 
 to the brow of a hill, whence we^could 
 overlook the stronghold of the enemy. 
 Immediately below us were several lodges 
 made of skins, around which we could 
 faintly perceive numerous dark figures 
 moving to and fro, and evidently, as we 
 nought, preparing to turn in for the night. 
 A. litile beyond this was another encamp 
 
 ment, or cluster of lodges, and still beyond 
 another the three taken together number 
 ing not less than a hundred and fifty or 
 two hundred warriors. And here stood 
 we, a little band of sixteen men, about to 
 assail, at the least calculation, ten rimes 
 our own force. What rashness ! what a 
 fool-hardy undertaking ! 
 
 " Charles," whispered I to my friend, 
 " it is well that you and I are single men." 
 
 "Why so, Frank?" 
 
 " Because neither wife nor child will be 
 left to mourn our loss." 
 
 "That is true," answered he with a 
 sigh. " But do you then think our doom 
 certain ? " 
 
 " If we attack I do ; or least, that we 
 have ten chances against us to one in our 
 favor." 
 
 " It won't do," whispered Carson at this 
 moment, retreating a few paces, and mo 
 tioning us to follow him. Then he added 
 in a low tone : 
 
 " We're too soon, and it will never do to 
 try it afoot. I must stick to my first cal 
 culation. Our only chance of escape from 
 certain death must be by our horses. 
 We'll return to them and await the mid- 
 watch of night. Then we must dash 
 among them, raise all the hair we can, and 
 split for cover, or we shall be rubbed out 
 before we know it. I thought when I re- 
 connoitered, it would do better to steal in 
 among them and work silently but I see 
 now our only hope is by storm." 
 
 Accordingly we retraced our steps, and 
 having gained the cover where our animals 
 were concealed, squatted down upon the 
 earth. As it was yet too early for our 
 meditated attack, we once more replenished 
 our pipes, and enjoyed the refreshing fra 
 grance of some prime tobacco. 
 
 "I say, Kit," observed Black George, 
 "what d'ye think o' that thar Injin gal, 
 hey ? " 
 
 " Think she's a mysterious one." 
 
 " Ever seed her afore ? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " I have augh ! Think she's a speret, 
 hey ? " 
 
 " No ! think she's a human." 
 
 " Well, I'll be dog-gone ef I do ! I je 
 believe she's got wings and ken fly ef I 
 don't, call me a nigger and put me among 
 the cotton plants augh ! ' 
 
62 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 " Faith, thin, Misther Black George, 
 yees and mesilf is thinking much alike 
 now," interposed Teddy. " I thought all 
 the whiles she was a bir-r-d, barring the 
 feathers which is all beads on her." 
 
 " Augh ! put out for a greenhorn now," 
 returned the old trapper sarcastically. 
 "She's no bir-rer-renl as you sez. She's 
 a angel, she is ef she isn't, heyars what 
 don't know ' fat cow from poor bull.' ' 
 
 Talking of Prairie Flower, our present 
 design, together wiih various c f .her matters, 
 we whiled away some two or thiee hours, 
 when Carson notified us it was time to be 
 on the. move. Mounting once more oa>- 
 horses, we set forward, and bearing to the 
 left, descended immediately into the valley 
 in which the foe was camped., instead of 
 keeping along the brow of the ridge as be 
 fore. We were now compelled to use the 
 utmost caution, as the least sound might 
 betray us and thwart our plans. 
 
 At length we again made a halt in full 
 view of the dark lodges, which were faintly 
 perceptible in the dim light of the stars, 
 and one or two smouldering fires near the 
 center of the encampment. All was still 
 as the grave, and, from anything we could 
 discover to the contrary, as devoid of liv 
 ing thing. Not a word, not even a whisper, 
 was heard from one of our party. Each 
 sat erect upon his horse, motionless as a 
 statue, his eyes fixed upon some object be 
 fore him, and his mind it may be upon 
 death and the great hereafter. At least, 
 so was mine ; and though I rarely knew 
 fear, yet from some unaccountable cause I 
 now felt my heart die within me, as if 
 something dreadful were about to befall 
 me. Our pause was but momentary ; but 
 in that short space of time, melhought I 
 lived a year. 
 
 " Forward ! " whispered Carson, solemn 
 ly. " Each man for himself, and God for 
 us all ! " 
 
 Scarcely had the sentence passed his 
 lips, when, to our astonishment and dis 
 may, a tremendous volley rang on all sides 
 >{ us, and a shower of bullets and arrows 
 came whizzing through the air, accom 
 panied by yells that made my blood run 
 cold ; while on every hand we beheld a 
 legion of dark figures suddenly spring 
 from the earth, their murderous knives and 
 tomahawks faintly gleaming in the dim 
 
 light, as, flourishing them over tliei 
 and yelling their appalling war-whoop?, 
 they bore down upon us in overwhelming 
 numbers. To add to our consternation, 
 we heard the thundering tramp of a body 
 of horse, in front and rear, rushing up te 
 join our enemies and hem us in completely. 
 
 Instead of surprising the enemy as ex 
 pected, we now found ourselves surprised 
 in turn, and drawn into a terrible ambus 
 cade, from which there seemed no chance 
 of escape. Our design had doubtless been 
 betrayed but by whom I had no time for 
 conjecture ; for what between the yells of 
 savages groans and curses from our 
 own little band many of whom were 
 wounded and some seriously the rearing 
 and plui.gir.g of the horses, and my desire 
 to do the best I could for myself and 
 friends I had no time for speculation. 
 Two of the enem} f s balls had passed 
 through my hat one of tLem within an 
 inch of my skull and another through 
 the sleeves of my frock, slightly grazing 
 my arm ; but fortunately none had injured 
 myself nor horse. 
 
 ' ' Riddle them tear out thar hearts 
 scalp and send them to h 1 ! " shouted 
 Carson, in a voice that rose distinctly iibo'ye 
 the din of conflict ; and wheeling Ids 
 charger, he dashed into the thickest of the 
 fray, with that utter disregard to personal 
 safety, which Napoleon once displayed at 
 the far-famed bridge of Lodi. 
 
 Determined to share the fate of Kit, 
 whatever it might be, I called to Hunfly 
 to join me, and rushed my horse alongside 
 of his. Now it was that I had an oppor 
 tunity of \vitnessirig that coolness and in- 
 trepiuUy, those almost superhuman re 
 sources and exertions, which, together with 
 ether matters, have rendered the name of 
 Kit Carson immortal. 
 
 Discharging his rifle and pistols at the 
 first he came to, Carson raised himself in 
 his stirrups, and swinging the former wea 
 pon over his head, with as much apparent 
 ease as if a mere whisp, he brought it 
 down upon the skulls of the duskj L;td 
 around him with fatal effect. Not less 
 than a dozen in the space of twice as many 
 seconds bit the dust beneath its weight, 
 while his horse, madly rearing and plung 
 ing, trod down some four or live more. 
 Still they thickened around us, ( for lluntly 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 
 and myself were alongside, imitating to 
 the best of curability his noble example,) 
 and still that weapon, already reeking with 
 blood, was hurled upon them with the 
 same astonishing rapidity and the same 
 wonderful success. 
 
 On every hand we were hemmed in, and 
 every man" among us was fighting valiantly 
 for his own life and vengeano . There 
 was no opportunity for cowardice no 
 chance for flight retreat was cut off we 
 must tight or die. All seemed to under 
 stand this, and used superhuman exertions 
 to overcome the foe, who fell before us as 
 grass before the scythe of the mower ; but 
 alas for us ! only to have their places sup 
 plied by others equally as blood-thirsty 
 and equally as determined on our annihi 
 lation . 
 
 On all sides resounded hideous yells, 
 and curses, and groans, and shouts min 
 gled with the reports of firearms, and the 
 clash of deadly weapons. Fear we knew 
 not at least I judge by myself for under 
 the intoxicating excitement of the time, I 
 experienced no passion but uncontrollable 
 rage, and a desire to vent it upon our 
 swarthy foe. Success so far had been with 
 us, and" numbers of the enemy had fallen 
 to rise no more, while all but two of our 
 own party were in their saddles, though 
 some of them badly wounded. Above the 
 tumult and din, I could now distinguish the 
 voices uf Carson r the trappers and Teddy, 
 showing that each was doing his duty. 
 
 " Down, old paint-face ! " cried one. 
 
 "Take that, and keep them company as 
 has gone under afore ye ! " shouted another. 
 
 " H-ll's full o' sich imps as you ! " 
 roared a third. 
 
 " To the divil wid ye now, ye bloody 
 oarers for attacking honest, dacent white 
 paples- ye murthering tieves of Sathan, 
 yees ! " yelled the excited Irishman, as, 
 in all the u'lory of making a shelaleh of his 
 rille, he laid about him right worthily. 
 
 At this moment, when, the foot began to 
 waver when victory was almost ours up 
 thundered some thirty horsemen to rein 
 force our foes, revive their courage, and 
 render our case terribly desperate, if not 
 hopeless. 
 
 "At 'em, boys ! " shouted C-irson, ap- 
 par< ntly not the least disheartened ; and 
 driving his spurs into his horse, dropping 
 
 his bridle rein upon the saddle bow, hurl 
 ing his already broken and useless rille at 
 the heads of the nearest Indians, and draw 
 ing his knife and tomahawk, he charged 
 upon the new comers, seemingly with as 
 much confidence in his success as if backed 
 by a whole battalion. 
 
 No wonder Kit Carson was famous for 
 he seemed a whole army of himself. A 
 bare glimpse of one of his feats astonished 
 me, and for the moment almost made me 
 doubt my senses. Two powerful Indians, 
 hard abreast, weapons in hand, and well 
 mounted, rushed upon him at once, and 
 involuntarily I uttered a cry of horror, for 
 I thought him lost. But no ! With an 
 intrepidity equalled only by his activity, a 
 weapon in either hand, he rushed his 
 horse between the two, and dodging by 
 some unaccountable means the blows aimed 
 at his life, buried his knife in the breast of 
 one, and at the same moment his toma 
 hawk in the brain of the other. One 
 frightful yell of rage and despair, and two 
 riderless steeds went dashing on. 
 
 Side by side with Huntly, I fought with 
 the desperation of a madman, and per 
 formed feats which astonished even myself. 
 Thrice did I find my bridle rein seized by 
 no less than three or four stalwart savages, 
 and thought that all was over ; but as 
 often by some inexplicable means, my path 
 was cleared, and not a scratch upon my 
 person. 
 
 For ten minutes did the carnage rage 
 thus, during which time no less than forty 
 of uar foes had been killed or disabled, 
 and six of our own gallant band had gone 
 from among the living. Still the savages 
 pressed around us, and I now found my 
 situation growing more and more desper 
 ate. From over exertion, I began to feel 
 weak ; and my gallant steed, having been 
 less fortunate than I, was already stagger 
 ing under his wounds. A few more pain 
 ful efforts to bear down upon his foes, and 
 he reeled, dropped upon his knees, tried to 
 recover, failed, and at last rolled over upon 
 his side and expired. 
 
 As he went down, I leaped from his 
 back to the ground, and instantly found 
 myself surrounded by savages. Striking 
 right and left with renewed activity, I 
 shouted to Huntly, and in a moment 
 he charged to my rescue, and by oar 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 combined exertions, we managed for a mo 
 ment or two to keep the foe at bay. But the 
 strength of both of us was failing rapidly, 
 and already I found myself bleeding from 
 numerous flesh wounds. A few stabs and 
 one musket shot killed the horse of my 
 friend, \vho Avas by this means brought to 
 the same desperate strait as myself. 
 
 " It is all over, Frank," he groaned, as 
 a blow on the head staggered him back 
 against mo. 
 
 " Never pay die," I shouted, as with my 
 remaining strength I sprang forward and 
 plunged my knife into the breast of the 
 aggressor, whose hatchet was already 
 raised for a final and fatal stroke. 
 
 Partly recovering from my lunge, a 
 blow on the back of my neck brought me 
 to my knees ; and before I could regain 
 my feet, I saw another aimed at my head 
 by a powerful Indian, who was standing 
 over me. At this moment, when I thought 
 my time had come, and " God have mercy 
 on my soul ! " was trembling on my lips, 
 Kit Carson, like an imbodied spirit of bat 
 tle, thundered past me on his powerful 
 charger, and bending forward in his sad 
 dle, with a motion quick as lightning itself, 
 seized the scalp lock of my antagonist in 
 one hand, and with the other completely 
 severed his head from his body, which he 
 bore triumphantly away. I now sprang 
 to my feet, only to see my friend struck 
 down, and be felled senseless to the earth 
 myself. 
 
 CHAPTE R XV. 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS PAINFUL SURMISES THE 
 
 MYSTERIOUS OLD INDIAN APPEARANCE OF 
 
 PRAIRIE FLOWER HER DEVOTION OUR 
 
 SINGULAR CONVERSATION REGARDING HER 
 SELF AND TRIBE, THE FIGHT, MY FRIENDS, 
 AND MANY OTHER IMPORTANT MATTERS. 
 
 WHEN consciousness was again restored, 
 I found myself lying on a pallet of skins, 
 in a small, rude cabin, curiously construct 
 ed of sticks, leaves, earth and a few hides 
 of buffalo. 
 
 The first sensation was one of painful 
 confusion. I felt much as one does on 
 awaking from a troubled dream, without 
 being able to recall a single event con 
 
 nected with it, and yet feeling the effectj 
 of all combined. I was aware that either 
 something terrible had happened, or I had 
 dreamed it; but what that -something was, 
 I had not the remotest idea. The most I 
 could bring to mind, was a painful sen 
 sation of death. Perhaps I was dead ? 
 Horrible thought ! I tried to rise, but 
 could not could not even lift my head 
 from its rude pillow. Ey great exertion I 
 raised one hand a little but the effort 
 exhausted all my strength, and it fell bacb 
 heavily, causing me the most excruciating 
 pain. 
 
 What did all this mean ? Surely I was 
 not dead ! for dead people, I thought to 
 myself, feel no suffering. But where was 
 I, and how came I here, and what was 
 my ailment ? And then strange thought 
 who was I ? Laugh if you will, reader 
 but I had actually forgotten my own 
 name, ami for a moment could not recall 
 a single event of my existence. I had a 
 confused idea of having lived before of 
 having been somebody of having ex 
 perienced sensations both of pleasure and 
 pain ; but beyond these, all was blank and 
 dark as a ray less night. 
 
 Suddenly one remembrance after an 
 other began to flash upon me. First my 
 youth my school -boy days my collegi 
 ate course ; and then, the train once fired, 
 years and events were passed with th 
 velocity of thought itself ; and in one briel 
 moment, everything, up to the time of my 
 fall in the fight, rose fresh in my memory. 
 
 But still the mystery was as dark as 
 ever, and my curiosity as much unsatisfied. 
 How had the battle gone ? Were my 
 friends the victors ? But no ! that were 
 impossible, or I should not be here. Had 
 they all been killed or taken prisoners ? 
 And Huntly my friend ! Great Heaven ! 
 the very thought of him made me shudder 
 with dread. Alas! he was dead. I knew 
 it I felt it. I had seen him fall, and of 
 course he could not have escaped. Poor, 
 poor Charles Huntly my bosom com 
 panion friend of my happier days ! The 
 very thought of his untimely fate cut off 
 in the prime of lite made me groan with 
 anguish. 
 
 But where was I, and how came I here ? 
 Why had I been saved and not my friend ? 
 But it might be that he was df .id ; whik 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 I, by showing signs of existence, had been 
 brought hither and restored to life, only to 
 be the victim of some oblation of thanks- 
 givin<T to the imaginary deity who had 
 vouchsafed the victory to my foes. Ay, 
 this was the true, but horrible solution of 
 llie mystery ! My friends were dead 
 my foes had triumphed and for this 
 (horrible thought !) I was about to be the 
 sacrifice of rejoicing on a heathen shrine. 
 
 Was I alone ? I listened, but could 
 hear no sound indicating the presence of 
 another. Not satisfied with this, I turned 
 my head slightly, as much as my strength 
 would permit, and in the center of the 
 lodge, squatted on the ground, over a 
 small fire, with a long pipe in his mouth, I 
 beheld a little, old, dried up man, whom, 
 but for now and then a slight motion, I 
 might have taken for a heap of clay or a 
 crumbled up Egyptian mummy so much 
 did the skins worn around his body, and 
 his own shrivelled and livid flesh resemble 
 either. 
 
 Drawing in the smoke a couple of times, 
 and puffing it out to the right and left, he 
 arose and shuffled toward me. Curious to 
 learn the object of such a visit, I thought 
 it best to feign unconsciousness. Accord 
 ingly shutting my eyes, but not so as to 
 prevent my seeing him, I lay and watched 
 his motions. 
 
 He was a miserable and loathsome look 
 ing being, the very sight of whom sick 
 ened and disgusted me, particularly as I 
 fancied him my surgeon and jailor, who 
 would heal my wounds, only to pass me 
 over to the executioner. In bight he 
 could not have exceeded five feet even in 
 his palmiest days, and this was now much 
 reduced by age and debility. He was 
 thin and skinny, and his small, puekered- 
 ap visage bore the complicated autograph 
 of a century. His head was bald, save a 
 few white hairs on the cro\vn, where had 
 once been his scalp lock ; hi.s nose and 
 chin almost met over his toothless gums ; 
 and, to romplete, his trembling limbs and 
 tottering frame exhibited a striking resem 
 blance to the bony picture of death. Only 
 one feature about him gave evidence of his 
 being more than a mere walking automa- 
 H>n ; and that was his keen, eagle eye, 
 rhose luster, apparently undimmed by 
 fetus, still flashed forth the unconsumed 
 
 fires of what had once been a might j soul, 
 either for good or evil. 
 
 As he approached, he fastened his sharp 
 eyes upon me with such intensity, that in 
 voluntarily I let mine drop to the ground, 
 lest he should detect the feint. When 1 
 raised them again, I found him occupied 
 with some mysterious ceremony, probably 
 an incantation to lay the wrath or solicit 
 the aid of some imaginary spirit. 
 
 Taking his pipe from his mouth, he blew 
 a volume of smoke in a certain direction, 
 toward which he pointed the stem of his 
 pipe. This was done to the four cardinal 
 points of compass, and then a volume 
 was blown upward and another downward, 
 after which he bent over me and went 
 through a series of mysterious signs. 
 Then taking one of my hands in his, he 
 felt my pulse, during which operation I 
 could perceive his face brighten with an 
 expression of internal satisfaction. Then 
 his bony fingers, were pressed upon my 
 forehead and temples, and a single " Onh- 
 chi," which I interpreted from his manner 
 to mean " Good/' escaped his livid lips. 
 
 Thinking longer deception unnecessary, 
 I opened wide my eyes and said : 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 " Cha-cha-chee-kee-hobah," was the 
 answer. 
 
 Then straightening himself as much as 
 age would permit, he placed his pipe 
 again in his mouth, and turning his face 
 toward the door of the hut, struck the 
 palms of his hands three times together, 
 and uttered in a cracked voice the single 
 word : 
 
 " Leni ! " 
 
 Wondering what all this meant, I turned 
 my eyes in the same direction, and tba 
 next moment, to my astonishment, beheld 
 the beautiful form of the mysterious Prai 
 rie Flower enter from without. 
 
 With a light, quick tread, her face flushed 
 with animation and joy, she glided up to 
 the decrepid old Indian, and in a silvery 
 voice, such as one might expect from so 
 lovely a creature, said a few words and re 
 ceived a reply in a language to me wholly 
 unintelligible. Then springing to me, she 
 kneeled at my side, and turning her eye* 
 upward, hor sweet lips seamed moving to 
 an earnest prayer from a guileless heart. 
 
 I no longer had fears for my safety . 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 for in such a presence and with such an 
 act of devotion, I knew myself safe. I was 
 only afraid to speak or move, lest I should 
 wake to find it all a delusive dream. 
 
 But my desire to be assured of its re 
 ality would not long let me remain silent, 
 and at last I said : 
 
 " Sweet being, tell me the meaning of 
 all I see." 
 
 " Friend, you must not talk," she replied 
 in good English ; " it will do you harm." 
 
 " Nevertheless, fair creature, you must 
 answer my question. My curiosity is won 
 derfully excited, and silence will harm me 
 more than conversation." 
 
 She turned and addressed a few words 
 to the old man, who now approached her 
 side and gazed down upon me with a mild 
 look. His reply was apparently satisfac 
 tory ; for looking full upon me again, she 
 said: 
 
 "You may be right, and I will answer. 
 You were badly wounde4 in the fight." 
 
 " I am aware of that." 
 
 " You were left upon the ground for 
 dead." 
 
 " Ha ! indeed I But the battle who 
 won ?" 
 
 " Your friends were victorious." 
 
 " Surprising ! What lucky chance of 
 fortune gave them the victory ? " 
 
 " A reinforcement." 
 
 " Indeed ! from where ? " 
 
 " Fort John." 
 
 This fort, now demolished, stood at the 
 time of which I write about a mile below 
 Fort Laramie, and was well garrisoned. 
 From a mistaken confidence in our own 
 abilities to win the day, we had neglected 
 calling there for volunteers to augment 
 our numbers and render our success more 
 certain. 
 
 " And what brought them to our aid so 
 opportunely ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Certain timely information." 
 
 " By whom conveyed ? " 
 
 " A friend to your race." 
 
 " By the same messenger that brought 
 intelligence of the enemy to Fort Lara 
 mie ? " 
 
 " It matters not by whom. Let the re 
 sult suffice." 
 
 " How shall I thank you, sweet Prairie 
 Flower?" 
 
 'For what?" 
 
 " For all that you have done." 
 
 " I need no thanks." 
 
 " say not thus." 
 
 " Then thank me by your silenqg," 
 
 " I will ; and by my prayers for yor 
 safety and happiness." 
 
 " Bless you ! " she exclaime 1, fei v< ntljr 
 " The only boon I would have asked, saw 
 one." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " That you will not seek to kncT :noi 
 of me and my history than I may choose 
 to tell ; and. that whatever you may see and 
 hear that seems mysterious, you will reveal 
 to none without my permission." 
 
 " To please sweet Prairie Flower," I 
 answered, " I will strive not to be a med 
 dler nor a babbler ; though she must bear 
 in mind where so much interest is excited, 
 the task she has imposed is a hard one." 
 
 " Then by adhering to it, you will con 
 fer upon her the deeper obligation." 
 
 " Yet I cannot forbear one question." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Is Prairie Flower not of my race?" 
 
 " The judgment of the querist musf 
 answer him." 
 
 "Will not you?" 
 
 " Not now perhaps nevt,r." 
 
 " I regret your decision, yet will not 
 press the point. But to return to the bat 
 tle." 
 
 "What would you know?" 
 
 " How it was won how I came to b 
 neglected and why I am here." 
 
 "A reinforcement charging suddenly 
 upon the enemy, alarmed and put him to 
 flight. The victors pressed upon his rear, 
 and left their killed and wounded upon the 
 gory field. Before they returned, a few 
 who beheld, but did not join the fight, 
 found you and another in whom life was 
 not yet extinct, and bore you both away." 
 
 "And and that other ? " I gasped. 
 " Was was it my friend ? " 
 
 " None other." 
 
 "And he he is alive?" 
 
 "Ay, and doing well." 
 
 " Thank God ! thank God ! A. weight 
 of grief is lifted from my heart. Bui 
 where 0, tell me quickly where- Is b 
 now ? " 
 
 " Not far hence." 
 
 "And all is owing to you ? " 
 
 "Nay, I said not that." 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE *AR WEST. 
 
 " God bless you for an angel of mercy ! 
 I must thank you my heart is bursting 
 witk gratitude! " 
 
 " Nay, spare your thanks to mortal ! 
 Thank God not me for I am only an 
 humble instrument in his hands." 
 
 " Mysterious being, who art thou? " 
 
 " lie-member your promise and question 
 not." 
 
 "But you seem more of Heaven than 
 earth." 
 
 " It is only seeming then. But I must 
 remind you that you have now talked full 
 long." 
 
 " Nay, but tell me where I am ? " 
 
 " In the lodge of Cha-cha-chee-kee-ho- 
 bah, or Old-Man-of-the-Mountains." 
 
 " Is it he that stands beside you ?" 
 
 " The same. He is ' Great Medicine,' 
 and has cured you." 
 
 "And how long have I been here ? " 
 
 " Four days." 
 
 " Good heavens ! you astonish me ! 
 Surely not four days?" 
 
 " Prairie Flower would not tell you 
 wrong*" said my informant, with a re 
 proachful look. 
 
 " I know it, sweet being. I will not 
 doubt you and only intended to express 
 surprise. Then I have been four days 
 nconscious." 
 
 "Ay, a week." 
 
 "A week?" I exclaimed, looking her 
 earnestly in the face: "A week, say you ? 
 A-iul was the battle fought a week ago ? " 
 
 " It was a week ago last night." 
 
 "And pray in what part of the country 
 am I now ? " 
 
 " On the Black Hills." 
 
 "Indeed! And how far from Fort 
 Laramie ? " 
 
 " Not less than sixty miles." 
 
 "And how was I borne here ? " 
 
 " On a litter." 
 
 " By whom ? " 
 
 " My friends." 
 
 "White men or red?" 
 
 "The latter." 
 
 "And for what purpose ? " 
 
 " To restore you to health." 
 
 "And what object could you or they have 
 in bestowing such kindness on strangers ? " 
 
 " To do good." 
 
 " For which of course you expect a 
 recompense ? ' ' 
 
 Prairie Flower looked at me earnestly 
 a moment, with a sweet, sad, reproachful 
 expression, and then said with a sigh : 
 
 "Like the rest of the world, you mis 
 construe our motives." 
 
 "Forgive me!" I exclaimed, almost 
 passionately for her appearance and 
 words touched my very soul : " Forgive 
 me, sweet being ! I was wrong, I see. 
 On your part it was solely charity that 
 prompted this noble act. But it is so rare 
 that even a good action is done in this 
 world without a selfish motive, that, in the 
 thoughtlessness of the moment, I even 
 imputed the latter to you." 
 
 " That is why I suppose so few under 
 stand us ? " she said, sadly. 
 
 " You must be a very singular people," 
 I rejoined, looking her full in the eye. 
 " Will you not tell me the name of your 
 tribe?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I told you before," she answered, 
 " you must not question me touching my 
 history or tribe. Let it suffice that we are 
 known as the Mysterious or Great Medi 
 cine Nation ; that to us all roads are free, 
 and with us all nations are at peace. We 
 war upon none and none upon us." 
 
 "And yet do you not excite others to 
 deeds you seem to abhor ? " 
 
 " What mean you ? " she asked quickly, 
 a flush of surprise giving a beautiful glow 
 to her noble features. 
 
 " Forgive me if I speak too plainly. 
 But was not your message to Forl Larar 
 mie the cause of a bloody battle between 
 the whites and Indians at Bitter Cotton- 
 wood ? " 
 
 " The immediate cause of warrior meet 
 ing warrior in the game of death, most 
 undoubtedly," she answered, with a proud 
 look and sparkling eyes. " But do you 
 not 'overlook the fact, that it was done to 
 save the innocent and defenceless ? Were 
 not the Indians gathered there in mighty 
 force to prey upon the weak ? and was it 
 not the duty of those who sought to d* 
 right to warn the few against the many 
 the unwary of their, hidden foe ? Could 
 Prairie Flow-er stand idly by and see de* 
 fenceless women and children drawn into 
 a fatal snare, and made a bloody sacrifice 
 to a heartless enemy ? Had the pale- face 
 so laid in wait for the red-man, Prairie 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 Flower, if in her power, had so warned the 
 latter. Prairie Flower did not call the red- 
 man there ; she regretted to see him there ; 
 but being there, she could do no less than 
 warn and put the pale-face on his guard." 
 
 This was said with .such a proud look of 
 conscious rectitude an expression so sub 
 lime, and an eloquence so pathetic that I 
 could hardly realize I was gazing upon 
 and listening to an earthly habitant. I 
 felt ashamed of my ungallant and unjust 
 insinuation, and hastened to reply : 
 
 " Forgive me, sweet Prairie Flower, for 
 having again wronged you for having 
 again done you injustice ! But, as before, 
 I overlooked the motive in the act. 1 will 
 strive not to offend again and wound your 
 sensitive feelings by doubting your gener 
 ous intentions. Are there many more like 
 you, sweet Prairie Flower ? " 
 
 " Our tribe numbers between sixty and 
 seventy souls." 
 
 "Is this your fixed abiding place ? " 
 
 " Only for a time. Our home is every 
 where between the rising and the setting 
 sun. We go wherever we think ourselves 
 the most beneficial in effecting good." 
 
 " Perhaps you are Christian missiona 
 ries ?" 
 
 " We believe in the holy religion of Jesus 
 Christ, and endeavor to inculcate its doc 
 trines." 
 
 " Why then did this old man use mys 
 terious signs ? " 
 
 " He is of another race and generation, 
 was once a great medicine in his tribe, and 
 cannot divest himself of old habits." 
 
 " You seem rightly named the Mysteri 
 ous Tribe ; and of you in particular I have 
 heard before." 
 ' " Indeed ! When and how ? " 
 
 I proceeded to detail briefly the story 
 of the old trapper. 
 
 She mused a moment and replied : 
 
 " I remember such a person now, me- 
 tbinks. He was found, as you say, with 
 life nearly extinct. By careful nursing he 
 'Was restored to health. But he seemed 
 inquisitive, and I employed the ruse of 
 telling him his life was in danger to hurry 
 his departure, lest he might prove trouble 
 some. I trust there was nothing wrong in 
 that. But come, come, I have forgotten 
 my own caution, and talked too long by 
 far. You need repose and silence/' 
 
 " But one thing more ! My friend ? " 
 
 " You shall see him soon perhaps to 
 morrow." 
 
 " 0, no ! say to-day !" 
 
 " I cannot. To-morrow is the eatlieo* 
 And so adieu ! Seek repose and forget 
 fulness in sleep." 
 
 With this she turned, and glided out of 
 the apartment in the same noiseless man 
 ner she had entered it. The old man look 
 ed at me a moment shook his head and 
 trembling hands turned shuffled away 
 to his fire and I was left alone to reflect 
 on what I had seen and heard and my pre 
 sent condition. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SICK-BED REFLECTIONS GREAT MEDICINH 
 
 REAPPEARANCE OF PRAIRIE FLOWER OUB 
 
 CONVERSATION GRATITUDE MT WOUNDS 
 
 HER SUDDEN EMBARRASSMENT DEPAR 
 TURE, ETC. 
 
 
 
 IT is a painful thing to one who has nev 
 er known sickness, to be confined day aftei 
 day to his bed, racked with torture, debar 
 red even the liberty of enjoying for a mo 
 ment the bright sunshine and clear air of 
 heaven, unable perhaps to lift his head 
 from his pillow, and yet beholding others, 
 flushed with health and happiness, coming 
 and going as they please, and seeming to 
 prize lightly all which he most covets. Il 
 is only on a bed of sickness and pain, thai 
 we are taught to value as we should thai 
 greatest of all blessings, good health 9 
 blessing without which all others are rob 
 bed of their pleasures : for what are for 
 tune and friends and all their concomitants, 
 to one who is borne down by a weight of 
 bodily suffering ? True, these may in a 
 measure minister to his comforts for with 
 out money and friends, the sick bed is only 
 a pallet of the most abject misery yet all 
 the joys arising therefrom in connection 
 with health, are lost to the invalid ; and he 
 lays, and sighs, and groans, and envies the 
 veriest strolling mendicant on earth tbe 
 enjoyment of his strength and liberty. 
 
 Such were my thoughts, as hour after 
 hour, from the disappearance of Prairie 
 Flower, I lay and mused upon all the 
 events of my chequered life, up to tb 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 69 
 
 present time. Born to wealth, blessed 
 with health, kind friends, and a college ed 
 ucation, I might have passed my whole 
 life in "luxurious ease, but for the restless 
 desire of travel and adventure. Not a dis 
 comfort had I ever known ere my depart 
 ure from the paternal roof; and when I 
 remembered, that now I was thousands of 
 miles away, in an Indian camp of the wil 
 derness, wounded nigh nnto death, unable 
 to rise from my pallet, solely dependent 
 upon strangers of a savage race for my 
 existence and the few favors I received, 
 perhaps rendered a cripple or an invalid 
 for life, and reflected on how much I had 
 sacrificed for this my feelings may be 
 better imagined than described. 
 
 To what extent I was wounded I knew 
 not for I had neglected to question Prai 
 rie Flower on the subject and I was now 
 too weak to make the examination myself. 
 My head, one of my arms, and both of 
 my lower limbs were bandaged in a rude 
 way, and my weakness had doubtless been 
 caused by excessive hemorrhage. From 
 the manner of Prairie Flower and the old 
 Indian, I was led to infer that the crisis of 
 danger was past ; but how long it would 
 take me to recover, I had no means of as 
 certaining, or whether I should be again 
 blessed with C\ie use of my limbs. Per 
 haps I might here be confined for months, 
 and then only regain my wonted strength 
 to find myself a cripple for life. 
 
 These thoughts pained and alarmed 
 me, and I looked eagerly for the return 
 of Prairie Flower, to gain the desired 
 information. But she came not; and 
 through sheer exhaustion, I was at last 
 forced to drop the subject, while I strove 
 to resign myself to such fate as He, who 
 had preserved my existence as it were by 
 a miracle, should, in his wise dispensation, 
 see proper to decree. 
 
 Then my thoughts turned upon Prairie 
 Flower. What mystery was shrouding 
 this singular and angelic being, that she 
 feared to be questioned regarding her his 
 tory and tribe ? Was she of the Indian 
 race ? I could not believe it. She seem 
 ed too fair and lovely, and without the 
 lineaments which distinguish this people 
 from those nations entitled to the name of 
 pale-face. Might she not be a missionary, 
 who, blessed with great self-denial and a 
 
 desire to render herself useful while on 
 earth, and yet too modest to avow it, had, 
 at a tender age, gone boldly among the 
 savages and labored zealously in her noble 
 calling, to enlighten their dark minds and 
 teach them the sacred truths of Christiani 
 ty ? She had admitted that all believed in 
 the doctrines preached by the Saviour; ana 
 though she had not openly acknowledged, 
 she certainly had not denied, my imputa 
 tion regarding the calling of herself and 
 friends. This, then, was the best solution 
 of the mystery I could invent. But even 
 admitting this to be true that she was in 
 reality of the Anglo-American race, and a 
 pious instructor who found her enjoyments 
 in what to others would have been a source 
 of misery still it was a matter for curious 
 research, how one of her age should have 
 become so familiar with the language and 
 habits of all the various tribes of the Far 
 West and why, if she had friends, she 
 had been permitted to venture among them 
 alone and at the risk of her life. View 
 the matter as I would, I found it ever 
 shrouded with a vail of mystery and ro 
 mance, beyond which all my speculations 
 were unable to penetrate. 
 
 Thus I lay and pondered for several 
 hours, during which time I saw not a liv 
 ing soul the old Indian excepted who, 
 having finished his pipe, sat doubled up on 
 the ground by his smouldering fire, as mo 
 tionless and apparently as inanimate as so 
 much lead. Once, and only once, he raised 
 his head, peered curiously around him for 
 a moment, and then settled down into the 
 previous position. Fixing my gaze upon 
 him, and wondering what secrets of the 
 past and his own eventful life might per 
 chance be locked in his aged breast, I at 
 last felt my eyes grow heavy, the old man 
 grew less and less distinct, and seemed to 
 nod and swim before my vision, sometimes 
 single and sometimes double, and then all 
 became confused, and I went off into a 
 gentle sleep. 
 
 How long I slept I am unable to say ; 
 but an acute sense of pain awoke me ; 
 when, to my surprise, I found it already 
 dark, and the old man bending^over me, en 
 gaged in dressing my wounds, and applying 
 a kind of whitish liniment of a soothing and 
 healing nature, prepared by himself and 
 kept oil hand for such and similar purpose*. 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 Some half an hour was he occupied in 
 this proceeding, during which I suffered 
 more or less pain from the removal of the 
 bandages, which, having become dry and 
 stiff, adhered rather too closely to the af 
 fected parts. 
 
 Thinking it useless to question him, I 
 made no remark, but passively suffered 
 him to do as he pleased which he did, 
 without appearing to notice me any more 
 than it' I were dead, and he performing 
 the last office of sepulture. 
 
 At length, the bandages being replaced, 
 and my condition rendered as comfortable 
 as circumstances would permit, he ten 
 dered me some light food and water 
 both of which I partook sparingly and 
 with the single word "Onh-chi," and a 
 nod of his head, turned away and left me 
 to my meditations. In ten minutes I was 
 again asleep. 
 
 When I next awoke, the sun was stream 
 ing through the open doorway and crevi 
 ces of the old cabin, and, to my surprise, 
 I found Prairie Flower again kneeling by 
 my side. Her eyes were turned upward 
 as before, and her lips moved, but not a 
 sound issued from them. She was evi 
 dently making a silent appeal to Heaven 
 in my behalf ; and as I lay and gazed upon 
 her sweet, placid countenance, and felt 
 that all this was for me, me thought I had 
 never beheld a being so lovely ; and she 
 seemed rather an immortal seraph, bent 
 at the Throne of Grace, than a mortal 
 tenant of this mundane sphere. 
 
 At length she arose, and with a charm 
 ing smile upon her features, and in the 
 sweetest tone imaginable, said : 
 
 " And how fare you this morning, my 
 friend ?" 
 
 " I feel much refreshed," I answered, 
 'by a night of calm repose and my 
 btrength is evidently improving." 
 
 " 1 am glad to hear it for you have 
 been nigh unto death." 
 
 " I am aware of it, and know not how 
 lo express to you rny deep obligations for 
 my recovery." 
 
 " As I told you before, no thanks are 
 due me. I did but my duty, and my own 
 conscience has already rewarded me ten 
 fold. Those who labor to effect all the 
 good they can, need no thanks expressed 
 in words for words are superfluous." 
 
 " And yet had I done for you what yov 
 have done for me, would you not have 
 thanked me ? " 
 
 " Doubtless I should." 
 
 " And will you not allow me the privi 
 lege you would have claimed yourself! 
 Would it have pleased you to find me 
 ungrateful ?" 
 
 " I cannot say it would," she replied, 
 musingly; "for, like others, I am only 
 mortal ; and perhaps vain too vain of 
 having what little I do appreciated. I 
 should not have such feelings, I am well 
 aware ; but they are engrafted in my na 
 ture, and I cannot help it." 
 
 " Then even oral thanks cannot be dis 
 pleasing to sweet Prairie Flower ? " 
 
 " Understand me, friend ! There is a 
 vast difference between expressing thanks 
 by word of mouth, and being ungrateful. 
 That you are not ungrateful, your look 
 and actions tell therefore are words su 
 perfluous. 
 
 " Well, then, I will say no more but 
 trust that time will give me an opportunity 
 of proving by acts, what at best could he 
 but feebly spoken. I agree with you, that 
 words in a case like mine are of little im 
 portance. They are in fact ' trifles light AS 
 air,' and as often proceed from the lips 
 merely, as from the heart. But now a 
 word of myself. Tell me, fair being, and 
 do not fear to speak plainly regarding my 
 present condition. Can I ever recover ? " 
 
 " Great Medicine has pronounced you 
 out of danger." 
 
 " Shall I ever regain the full use of ail 
 my limbs ?" 
 
 " I know nothing to the contrary." 
 
 " And my wounds what are they ? " 
 
 " You were found with your head fright 
 fully gashed, and your skull slightly frac 
 tured. Your left arm was broken, and the 
 flesh around it badly bruised, apparently 
 by the tread of a horse. Various other 
 flesh wounds were found upon your per 
 son made, seemingly, by some sharp in 
 strument from which you bled profusely. 
 These, together with loss of blood, pro 
 duced a delirious fever, from which kind 
 Providence has restored you, as it were by 
 a miracle. For a week, life and death 
 contended equally as it seemed for the 
 victory. Many a time have I stood by 
 your side, and thought every breath you 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 71 
 
 Jrew your last I can only compare yuur | 
 critical condition to a person suspended by | 
 a mere c.ord over a terrible abyss, with a 
 strain upon it so equal to its strength that 
 another pound would divide it and render 
 death certain, and there hanging seven I 
 days and nights, ere a safe footing could 
 be effected on the solid earth above." 
 
 " You draw a fearful picture, Prairie 
 Flower. But my friend did he know of I 
 this ? " 
 
 "Not fully. He knew you were badly 
 wounded but we gave him all the hope 
 we could, lest, with his own wounds, the 
 excitement should prove fatal to him also. 
 As it was, he was often delirious, and raved 
 of you, and accused himself of dragging 
 you hither and being the cause of your 
 misery, perhaps death. Had we informed 
 him you were dead, I do not think he 
 would have survived an hour." 
 
 "God bless him for a noble fellow a 
 true friend ' " I cried, while tears of affec 
 tion flooded my eyes. 
 
 As I spoke, I noticed the countenance 
 of Prairie Flower become suddenly crim 
 son, p.nd then white as marble, while she 
 averted her head and seemed uncommonly 
 affected. What all this meant, I was at a 
 loss to conjecture. In fact I did not give 
 it much thought, for my mind was filled 
 with the image of Charles Huntly, and I 
 quickly added : 
 
 " Is he not a noble friend, sweet Prairie 
 Flower ? " 
 
 " He is indeed ! " she exclaimed, looking 
 at me earnestly a moment, as if to detect 
 a hidden meaning in myiwords, and then 
 dropping her eyes modestly to the ground. 
 
 " But his wounds ? " 
 
 " Like yourself, he received two very 
 se/ere contusions on the head, which ren 
 dered him senseless for several hours." 
 
 " And how is he now ? " 
 
 " He has so far recovered that he leaves 
 his lodge, and occasionally takes a short 
 stroll." 
 
 " And has he not been to see me ? " 
 
 "No! we would not permit him." 
 
 " And how did a refusal affect him ? " 
 
 " Quite seriously. But we told him that 
 
 your life, in a great measure, depended on 
 your being kept perfectly quiet, and that 
 as soon as he could do so with safety, he 
 should be admitted to your presence. He 
 seemed to grieve very much, but uttered 
 no complaints." 
 
 "But you must let me see him now, 
 Prairie Flower !" 
 
 "I do not know," she answered: "I 
 will consult Great Medicine." 
 
 "But, Prairie Flower ! " I called as she 
 turned away. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Remember, I must see him ! " 
 
 " But surely you would not endanger 
 your life and his ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. But do you think such 
 would be the effect of our meeting ? " 
 
 " I am unable to say, and that is why I 
 wish to consult Cha-cha-chee-kee-hobah. 
 or, as we often term him, Great Medi 
 cine." 
 
 " Go, then, and Heaven send I get a 
 favorable answer." 
 
 Prairie Flower turned away, and ap 
 proaching the Old-Man-of-the-Mountnins. 
 held with him a short consultation. Then 
 returning to me, she said : 
 
 "Great Medicine thinks it imprudent; 
 but if you insist on it, he says you may 
 meet; but at the same time he bids me 
 warn you both to be cautious and not be 
 come too much excited, or the worst of 
 consequences may follow." 
 
 " I will endeavor to be calm, and se 
 no cause why I should be more than ordi 
 narily excited." 
 
 " You perhaps overlook, my friend, that 
 a great change has taken place in the ap 
 pearance of each of you since last you 
 met ; and your system being in a feeble 
 state, a sight of your friend may affect 
 you more than you are now aware of. 
 The greatest change, however, is in your 
 self; and I must prepare your friend to 
 behold in you a far different person than 
 he beheld on the night of the battle. I 
 charge you beforehand, to brace your 
 nerves and meet him calmly ! " 
 
 Saying this, she turned and quitted tin 
 hovel. 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 VISIT OF MY FRIEND HIS CHANGED APPEAR 
 ANCE SINGULAR MANNER OF PRAIRIE 
 
 FLOWER HER ABRUPT DEPARTURE HER 
 
 RESEMBLANCE TO ANOTHER OUR SURMISKS 
 
 HER MY FRIEND IN LOVE, 
 
 REGARDING 
 
 ETC. 
 
 HALF an hour of the most anxious sus 
 pense followed the disappearance of Prai 
 rie Flower, during which, in spite -of my 
 self, I suffered the most intense mental 
 excitement, and my hands shook like the 
 quaking aspen, and I felt both sick and 
 faint. At the end of die time mentioned, 
 Piairie Flower appeared and announced 
 that my friend would shortly be with me. 
 
 "But you seem agitated," she added, 
 with an expression of alarm. 
 
 "0, no mere nothing, I assure you," 
 I quickly replied, fearful she would alter 
 her arrangement and put off our meeting 
 to another day. " My hand shakes a little 
 perhaps but you see, Prairie Flower, I 
 am quite composed quite collected, in 
 deed." 
 
 She shook her head doubtingly, and 
 was about to reply, when Huntly made his 
 appearance, and approached me with a 
 feeble step. 
 
 Heavens ! what a change in sooth ! A 
 wild exclamation of alarm and surprise 
 was already trembling on my lips, when, 
 remembering the injunction of Prairie 
 Flower, I, by a great effort suppressed it. 
 
 Could this feeble, tottering form ap 
 proaching me, indeed be the gay, dashing, 
 enthusiastic Charles Huntly, whom I had 
 known from boyhood ? His face was pale 
 and thin his lips bloodless his eyes had 
 lost much of their luster, and moved some 
 what nervously in their sunken sockets 
 his cheek bones protruded, and his robust 
 figure was wonderfully emaciated while 
 the wonted expression of fire and soul in 
 his intelligent countenance, had given 
 place to sedateness and melancholy. To 
 complete, his head was rudely bandaged, 
 and his habiliments exhibited marks of 
 the recent conflict. If such was his ap 
 pearance, what, judging from the remarks 
 of Prairie Flower, must have been mine ! 
 I shuddered at the thought. 
 
 As he came up, so that his eye could 
 
 rest upon me, he suddenly started back, 
 with a look of horror, threw up both handa 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " Merciful God ! can this be Francig 
 Leigh ton ? " and staggering to my side, 
 he dropped down upon the ground and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Beware ! beware ! " cried Prairie 
 Flower earnestly, her features turning 
 deadly pale. " Remember, Charles Hunt 
 ly remember my warning ! or you will 
 
 do what can never be undon 
 
 and all our 
 have been 
 
 efforts to save you both will 
 made in vain." 
 
 "Charles," gasped I: "Charles 
 Huntley my friend compose yourself, 
 or you will destroy us both ! " 
 
 " Oh, Frank, Frank ! " he rejoined some 
 what wildly, " I never thought to see you 
 thus, when in an evil moment I urged you 
 to leave home. Oh! why did I do" it! 
 Forgive me my friend forgive me, for 
 God's sake ! or I shall go distracted." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, my friend, do not 
 blame yourself ! I left home by my own 
 desire and free will. You are not to blame, 
 any more than I. Of course, we could no4 
 foretell what fate had in store for us. 
 Rather thank God, dear Charles, that we 
 are both alive and likely to recover ! " 
 
 "And you think, dear Frank, I am not 
 to blame ? " 
 
 " Not in the least." 
 
 " God bless you for a generous soul ! 
 Oh ! if you could but know what I have 
 suffered ! Tortures of mind beyond the 
 strength of reason to bear." 
 
 " 1 have heard so from the lips of our 
 sweet benefactor." 
 
 "Ay, sweet benefactor, indeed! God 
 bless you, lovely Prairie Flower ! " lie ad 
 ded, passionately, suddenly turning his 
 eyes upon her. " If you are not rewarded 
 in this world, I am sure you will be in the 
 next." 
 
 At the first sentence, the face of the 
 maiden flushed, and then changed quickly 
 to an ashen hue, while her breast heaved 
 with some powerful emotion, like to the 
 billowy sea. She strove to reply, but 
 words failed her, and turning suddenly 
 away, she rushed from the lodge, leaving 
 us alone. 
 
 " Angelic creature ! " pursued Huntlv. 
 gazing after her retreating foim with an 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 expression of sincere admiration. " A lily 
 too ffir to bloom in a region so desolate as 
 'this. But why did she leave us so abrupt 
 ly, Frank ? " * 
 
 " I cannot say, unless it was her dislike 
 of praise." 
 
 " I could adore her, Frank, for her good 
 ness. Where would we be now, think 
 you, but for her timely aid? " 
 
 " In another world, most probably," I 
 answered solemnly. 
 
 " Ay, truly in another world," rejoined 
 Huntly with a sigh. " And you, Frank, if 
 one may judge by your looks, are not far 
 from there now. Great God ! " he contin 
 ued, gazing steadily on me, while his eyes 
 became filled with fears " what a change 
 what a change ! I cannot realize even 
 now, that I am speaking to Francis Leigh- 
 ton. And this the work of one short 
 week ! Oh ! how have I longed to see you, 
 Frank ! How on my knees have I cried, 
 begged and implored to be permitted to see 
 you ! But I was denied unresistingly de- 
 lied and now I am thankful for it ; for 
 tad I seen you in that unconscious state 
 described to me by Prairie Flower, I fear 
 K should have lost my reason forever, and 
 the sods of the valley would soon have 
 been green above my mortal remains." 
 
 This was said with an air and tone so 
 mournful 1 }', touchingly sad, that in spite of 
 myself J found my eyes swimming in tears. 
 
 "Well," I answered, "let us forget the 
 past, and look forward with hope to the fu 
 ll ire ; and return to Him who has thus 
 l:ir watched over us with His all -seeing 
 < ye, and raised us up friends where we 
 b.ast expected them, in our moments of 
 affliction the spontaneous thanks of grate 
 ful hearts ! " 
 
 T.n this and like manner we conversed 
 sol ae half an hour without interruption. 
 As my friend had been struck down at the 
 sane moment with myself, he was of 
 course unab'e to give me any informa 
 tion regardir what happened afterward. 
 Whether anj of our friends were killed or 
 not, we had i o means of ascertaining, and 
 could only speculate upon the probability 
 of this thing or that. What had become 
 of Teddy ? Had he survived ? and if so, 
 what must have been his feelings when he 
 found we came not to his call, and ap- 
 [ared not to his search ! 
 
 This train of conversation again brought 
 us back to Prairie Flower, and each had 
 to rehearse the little he had gleaned, and 
 the much he had surmised concerning 
 herself and the tribe ; and in many points 
 we found our conjectures to correspond 
 exactlv. 
 
 " By-the-by," I observed at length, " it 
 strikes me I have seen some face like hers 
 but where and when I cannot tell per 
 haps in my dreams," 
 
 "Indeed!" replied Huntly, quickly, 
 "and so have I but thought it might be 
 fancy merely at least that yoa would 
 think so and therefore kept it to my 
 self." 
 
 " Who, then, is the person ? " 
 
 " You have no idea ? " 
 
 " None in the least." 
 
 " And if I tell you, and you see no like 
 ness, you will not ridicule my fancy ? " 
 
 "Ridicule, Charles ? No ! certainly not. 
 But why such a question ? " 
 
 " You will understand that full soon." 
 
 "Well, then, the lady ?" 
 
 " Have you forgotten the fair un 
 known?" 
 
 " Good heavens ! how like ! " I ex 
 claimed. You are right, my friend there 
 is indeed a wonderful likeness. Perhaps 
 But no ! the idea is too chimerical." 
 
 " Speak it, Frank perhaps what ? " 
 
 " I was about to add, perhaps they are 
 related but that could not be." 
 
 " And why not ? " asked Huntly. " Such 
 a thing is not impossible." 
 
 " Very true but most highly improba 
 ble, as you will admit. The beautiful un 
 known we saw in New York the beauti 
 ful mysterious, if I may so term her, in the 
 Far West : the former, perhaps, a daughter 
 of fashion in the gay and polished circles 
 of civilization the latter among barbari 
 ans, a prominent member of a roving tribe 
 of savages." 
 
 " But you overlook that she could not be 
 bred among savages." 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 " Because her English education, man 
 ners and accomplishments, all belie such a 
 supposition. I admit with you, that the 
 suggestion advanced by yourself look* 
 highly improbable at the same time 1 
 contend, as before, it is not impossible." 
 
 " Well, at all events, Charles, you musl 
 
74 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER: OR 
 
 admit it utterly useless to argue a point 
 founded solely upon speculation on both 
 sides. We have not even the history of 
 Prairie Flower to go upon, setting aside 
 entirely that of the other party, and con 
 sequently must come out exacll} where we 
 started, neither of us the wiser for the dis 
 cussion." 
 
 "Nothing more true," answered my 
 friend, musingly. "I would to Heaven I 
 could learn the history of Prairie Flower ! 
 Can she be an Indian ? " 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 "What a perfect creature ! and with a 
 name as beautiful as her own fair self. Do 
 you know, Frank, I " 
 
 " Well, speak out ! " 
 
 " You will not ridicule me ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " I am half in love." 
 
 " With whom ? " 
 
 " Prairie Flower." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, that is nothing strange 
 for you. I feel grateful enough to love her 
 myself. But, Charley, you did not allow 
 her to perceive any symptoms of your pas 
 sion ? " 
 
 " Not that I am aware of. But why do 
 you ask ? " 
 
 " Because it would offend her." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it." 
 
 " And wherefore, Frank ? " asked my 
 friend, rather anxiously. 
 
 " Wherefore, Charley ? Why, I believe 
 you are in love in earnest." 
 
 " Have I not admitted it ? " 
 
 " Only partially." 
 
 " Then I acknowledge it fully." 
 
 " But how about the unknown ? " 
 
 " I am in love with her too." 
 
 " Ay, and with every pretty face you 
 meet. But surely you are not serious in 
 this matter?" 
 
 " I fear I am," sighed Huntly. 
 
 " But you cannot love either much, 
 when you acknowledge to loving both." 
 
 " You forget the resemblance between 
 the two. I could love any being methinks, 
 in the absence of the unknown, who bore 
 her likeness." 
 
 " But, for heaven's sake, Charley, do not 
 let Prairie Flower know of this ! for it 
 would omy be to make her avoid us and per 
 haps result in unpleasant Consequences." 
 
 " And yet, Frank, at the risk of beiag 
 | thought egotistical, I must own I have rea 
 sons for thinking my passion returned." 
 
 " Returned, say you? Why, are yon 
 dreaming ? " 
 
 "No, in my sober senses." 
 
 " And what reasons, I pray ? " 
 
 "Her manner toward me wheneverm 
 meet, and whenever I speak to her. Sure 
 ly you must have noticed her embarrass 
 ment and change of countenance when 1 
 addressed her last, ere her hasty depar 
 ture." 
 
 " I did but attributed it, as I told you 
 then, to a dislike of flattery or praise to the 
 face." 
 
 " I formed a different opinion." 
 
 " Why then did you ask me the cause of 
 her leaving so abruptly ? " 
 
 " Merely to see if you suspicioned the 
 same as I that, if so, my own fancies 
 might have the surer foundation. Often 
 when she thought herself unnoticed, have 
 I, by turning suddenly upon her, caught 
 her soft, dark eye fixed earnestly upon me, 
 with an expression of deep, quiet, melan 
 choly tenderness, which I could not account 
 for, other than an affectionate regard for 
 myself ; and the more so, that when my 
 eye caught hers, she ever turned her gass 
 away, blushed, and seemed much confused. 
 It was this which first divided my thoughts 
 between herself and you, and awakened in 
 my breast a feeling of sympathy and affec 
 tion for her in return." 
 
 " You may be right," I answered, as I 
 recalled her strange manner of the day 
 previous, when I spoke to her of my friend 
 and I proceeded to detail it to Huntly 4 
 "But I am truly sorry it is so," I added, 
 in conclusion. 
 
 " Why so, Frank ? " 
 
 " Because it will only render her unhap 
 py for life." 
 
 "What! if I " 
 
 " Well, say on ! If you what, Char 
 ley?" 
 
 " I was going to add a marry her," 
 he replied in some confusion. 
 
 " Marry her ? Are you mad, Huntly ? " 
 
 " Only a little deranged." 
 
 " Not a little, either, if one may judge 
 by such a remark. Why, my friend, you 
 talk of marrying as if it were the most tri 
 fling thing in the world. You cannot be 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 75 
 
 In earnest, surely ! and it is a bad matter 
 for a jest." 
 
 " 1 am not jesting, at all events," he re 
 plied. " But why not marry her, if we 
 both love ? Is there anything so remark 
 able in marriage ? " 
 
 I looked at him earnestly, to detect, if 
 possible, some sly curl of the lip, some lit 
 tle sign which I could construe into a quiz- 
 ical meaning ; but no ! the expression of 
 his countenance was uncommonly serious, 
 if anything, rather melancholy. He was 
 sincere beyond a doubt, and the very 
 thought kept me dumb with surprise. 
 
 " You do not answer," he said at length. 
 " Perhaps you do not believe in my sin 
 cerity ?" 
 
 " Ay, too truly I do," I rejoined ; " and 
 the very knowledge made me speechless. 
 Why, my dear friend, what are you think 
 ing of? You, the young, wealthy, aristo 
 cratic Charles Iluntly, prating seriously to 
 me of marriage, and that to a nameless 
 Indian girl of whose history you know no 
 thing, ami whose acquaintance you have 
 made within a week ! What ! can this be 
 the same wild, reckless school-mate of 
 mine, whose mind six months ago rarely 
 harbored an idea beyond uttering a jest or 
 playing a prank upon some unsuspecting 
 individual ? Surely you are not in your 
 sober senses, Charley ! or this is a land of 
 miracles, indeed." 
 
 " I am not what I was," sighed my 
 friend, "though, I believe, not the less in 
 my senses for that. That I was a gay, 
 wild youth once, is no evidence I should 
 always remain one. To me there appears 
 nothing remarkable, that one whose life 
 has been a scene of folly, should become 
 changed by the near approach of death. 
 I have suffered too much within the past 
 week, both in body and mind, not to have 
 had very serious reflections. As regards 
 Prairie Flower, I acknowledge, as before, 
 I am totally ignorant of her history ; that, 
 as you say, I have known her barely a 
 week ; but I cannot forget that I am her 
 debtor, both for my own life and yours. 
 That she is a rare being, too good almost 
 to grace a world so cold and uncharitable 
 as this, none who have seen and conversed 
 with her as much as I, can doubt for a mo 
 ment Regarding marriage, I am very far 
 from thinking it a trifling affair on the 
 
 contrary, one of the most serious of a man's 
 life It is an event to make or mar his 
 happiness ; and for that reason should be 
 considered with all due solemnity, and 
 everything pertaining to it duly weighed, 
 that none may afterward be found want 
 ing. Had I proposed to you to unite my 
 self with a lady of fine accomplishments 
 and fortune, would you have asked the 
 question if both loved if she was one to 
 make me happy ? Probably not ; for her 
 wealth would prove the ' silver vail,' to 
 conceal all her defects. Should a man 
 take the solemn vows of marriage to please 
 himself or friends ? Should he do so mere 
 ly to make a display in public, and render 
 his heart in private the seat of misery ? 
 Of what value is gold, if it add nothing to 
 a man's happiness ? Riches are unstable, 
 and often, as the proverb has it, ' take to 
 themselves wings and fly away.' And then, 
 to him who has made these his god whc 
 has wedded them and not the woman 
 what is the result ? A few days of misery 
 and an unhappy end. Do not conclude 
 from this, my dear Frank, that I have re 
 solved to marry Prairie Flower ; for until 
 it was suggested by your own remarks, 
 such a thought never entered my head ; 
 and even now such a result is highly im 
 probable. I merely hinted at the possibil 
 ity of the thing, to ascertain what effect it 
 would have upon you." 
 
 " Well, I am happy in knowing the mat 
 ter is not so serious as I was at tirst led to 
 suppose. Take my word, Charley, it is 
 only a mere whim of the moment, which 
 will pass away with a return of health and 
 strength. When the body becomes dis 
 eased, it is not uncommon for the mind to 
 be affected also ; and though the idea you 
 have suggested may seem plausible now 
 mark me ! you will yet live to think it pre 
 posterous, and laugh at your present folly." 
 
 " Then, Frank, you think my mind 
 unsound ? " 
 
 " Not in a healthy state, certainly or, 
 with your quick sense of perception, you 
 would have become aware ere this, that, 
 no matter how deep her love, Prairie 
 Flower is one to reject even Charles 
 Huntly." 
 
 " Reject me, Frank, say you? reject 
 me?" cried Iluntly, auickly, with a look 
 1 of surprise. 
 
r* 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 " Ay. reject 3-0x1 even you the rich, 
 educated, and polished Charles Huntly." 
 
 " And why, Frank ?" 
 
 " First, because her proud, retiring 
 nature would rebel at the thought of an 
 alliance with one whom the world might 
 consider her superior. Secondly, because 
 her sense of duty would not allow her to 
 depart from her tribe, to which she be 
 longs either by birth or adoption. Third 
 ly, and conclusively, because she is one 
 who has evidently resolved to remain sin 
 gle through life. She is a girl possessed 
 of a remarkable mind, which once fixed 
 upon a point, remains unchangeable for 
 ever. That she loves you, I now believe ; 
 that you return the passion, in a measure, 
 you have acknowledged ;' but that she 
 would consent to leave her tribe and pledge 
 herself to you for life, I believe a thing 
 impossible." 
 
 " You perhaps have reasons for thinking 
 thus?"observed Huntly.eyeingme sharply. 
 
 " Nothing more than what I have gath 
 ered from noting her closely, during the 
 brief period of our acquaintance. I may 
 be wrong, but time will show. At all 
 events, my friend, I warn you, if you feel 
 an increasing passion or affection for this 
 girl, to suppress it at once, and leave the 
 vicinity as soon as the health of both of 
 us will permit." 
 
 " I will think of it my dear friend ; and 
 "in the mean time, do you watch Prairie 
 Flower closely as I will myself to learn 
 if your surmises be correct ; and should a 
 convenient opportunity offer, fail not to use 
 it to find out the true state of her feelings 
 
 regarding myself. I But enough 
 
 she comes." 
 
 As he spoke, Prairie Flower entered the 
 lodge to put an end to our conversation, 
 lest harm might be done me by too much 
 excitement. I now observed her narrow 
 ly, and saw their was a constraint in her 
 manner, which she only the more exposed 
 by trying to conceal and appear perfectly 
 natural. She gently reminded IluntJy it 
 was time for him to withdraw ; and though 
 lie strove hard to catch the soft glance of 
 IILT darli beaming eye, yet all his efforts 
 Droved fruitless ; and pressing my hand, 
 with a hearty " God bless you!" and a 
 deep, earnest prayer for my speedy recov 
 pry, he quitted the apartment. 
 
 Asking me one or two questions regard* 
 ing the effect produced upon me by my 
 friend's visit, and finding instead of injury 
 it had resulted to my benefit, Prairie Flow- 
 1 er bade me seek instant repose in sleep; 
 : and promising that Huntly should see me 
 ! again on the following day, she turned, 
 i and in a musing mood, with her head drop 
 ped upon her bosom, and slow steps, dis- 
 : appeared. 
 
 There was no mistaking it ; Prairie 
 
 j Flower was in love with my friend ; and I 
 
 ! sighed at the thought, that the hour of her 
 
 friendship to us, might prove the data of 
 
 her own unhappiness. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CONVALESCENCE THE MYSTERIOUS OR GREAT 
 
 MEDICINE TRIBE THEIR MANNERS THEIB 
 
 DAILY MODE OF WORSHIP THEIR MORNING, 
 
 NOON, AND EVENING SONGS A WSDDING 
 A FUNERAL, ETC. 
 
 TIME rolled on slowly, each day adding 
 something to my convalescence, and the 
 expiration of a month found me so far re 
 covered as to venture on a short stroll in 
 the open air. During this long period of 
 confinement, (to me it seemed a year,) 
 Prairie Flower and Huntly visited me ev 
 ery day, though rarely together ; and to 
 ward the last, my friend became an almost 
 constant companion. 
 
 Never shall I forget the emotions of gra 
 titude and joy which I experienced on be 
 holding once more the green leaves and 
 blades, the bright flowers and glorious sun 
 shine, feeling again the soft, balmy breezo 
 of heaven upon my emaciated frame, and 
 hearing the artless songs of the forest warb 
 lers. Earth, which for a time had seemed 
 cold and dreary, now appeared changed 
 to a heavenly paradise, and I could not 
 realize I had ever seen it look so en- 
 chantly beautiful before. In this I was 
 doubtless correct ; for never before had I 
 been absent from it so long ; and the con 
 trast between the grim, rude walls of my 
 late abode, and all I now beheld, wa* 
 enough to have put in ecstacies a far less 
 excitable and enthusiastic individual than 
 myself. 
 
I 
 
 ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 The village of the Mysterious or Great 
 Medicine Tribe, I found to consist of some 
 fifteen or twenty lodges, situated on the 
 side of the mountain so as to overlook a 
 beautiful valley some quarter of a mile be 
 low, through which flowed a murmuring 
 stream that formed one of the tributaries 
 of the Platte. The cabins, though only 
 temporarily erected, were very comforta 
 ble, and placed so as to form a complete 
 circle, in the center of which stood the 
 Great Medicine lodge of Cha-cha-chee-kee- 
 hobah, where I had been confined, and by 
 which, as I now learned, I had been high 
 ly honored, inasmuch as not a soul besides 
 its owner and Prairie Flower, unless by 
 special permit, was ever allowed to cros 
 its threshold. This then accounted for 
 nay not having seen any of the tribe dur 
 ing my confinement in bed. The Great 
 Medicine lodge, and one other, were dis 
 tinguished from the rest by their whitish 
 appearance, done probably by a limish 
 composition found on the mountains. This 
 other alluded to, was the residence of Prai 
 rie Flower, and two young, dark-skinned, 
 blaok - haired, bright - eyed, pretty - faced 
 Indian girls, whose countenances and 
 costumes bespoke intelligence and supe- 
 rioi ity. 
 
 Among this tribe were some twenty fe 
 males and as many children, and the bal 
 ance males, all of whom were decently 
 dad, and clean and tidy in their appear 
 ance. Save Prairie Flower, but very few 
 of them wore any kind of ornaments, and 
 their dark, clear skins were not in the least 
 bedaubed with paint. Most of them spoke 
 the English language, and some quite flu 
 ently ; and I observed many an old well- 
 thumbed book generally a bible lying 
 about their wigwams. In their intercourse 
 with myself and friend, they displayed a 
 dignified courtesy, and not one of all the 
 children did I ever observe to behave in 
 a rude or unbecoming manner. 
 
 They were, take them all in all, a re 
 markable people, and rightly named the 
 Mysterious Tribe ; and, as far as I could 
 judge, very zealous in the cause of Chris- 
 h&nity. Three times a day did they col 
 lect for public devotion to the Great Spi 
 rit ; and their ceremony, though simple, 
 was one of the most impressive I ever 
 witnessed. It was in the following manner: 
 
 At sunrise, noon, and sunset, Prairie 
 Flower and her two Indian companions 
 would come forth from their loda;e, arrav- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ed in neat and simple attire, each bearing 
 in her hand a kind of drum, or tamboriuo 
 without the bells, and approaching the 
 Great Medicine Lodge, would arrange them 
 selves in its front. Then bowing 10 the 
 east and west, the north and south, they 
 would beat the tamborines with their fin 
 gers whereupon the whole village men, 
 women and children would hastily quit 
 whatever occupation they might be at, and 
 assemble around them, their faces ex 
 pressive of the importance and solemnity 
 which they attached to the occasion. The 
 tamborines would continue to beat until 
 all were gathered together, when a deep 
 and impressive silence would ensue, during 
 which each face would be turned upward, 
 as if to solicit the Great Guardian of all 
 to be with them in their devotions. Then 
 the maidens would strike out into a clear, 
 silvery song, and at the end of each stanza 
 would be joined in the chorus by all of 
 both sexes, young and old, during which 
 each would kneel upon the earth, and con 
 tinue there until the commencement of the 
 next, when all would again rise to their feet. 
 These songs, of which there were three, 
 were translated to me by Prairie Flower, 
 at my request, and I herewith give them 
 if not in language, at least in spirit anl 
 sentiment commencing with the 
 
 MORNING SONG. 
 The day is up, the sun appears, 
 That sun of many thousand years, 
 And morning smiles through evening's tears: 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 To Thee who made the earth and and sky, 
 The hosts that go revolving by, 
 And all that live and all that die- 
 God ! God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kneel ! Kneel ! Kneel ! 
 O, bless us, Spirit, 
 That doth inherit 
 The earth and air, 
 And everywhere, 
 And save us, Thou, 
 To \vH )m we bow, 
 All h.imbly now, 
 Our Great and Heavenly Father ! 
 
 The day is up, and through our aiep 
 
 We've felt no visitations deep, 
 
 And nothing wherefore we should weep 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 Preserve us still throughout the day, 
 Teach us to senk the better way, 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 AfiC. never let us gc. astray 
 God I God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kneel ! kneel ! kneel ! 
 (), bless us, Spirit, 
 That doth inherit 
 The earth and air, 
 Aii.l everywhere ! 
 Aih! save, us, Thou, 
 To whom we bow, 
 All hurnblj now, 
 Our Great and Heavenly Father! 
 
 NOON-DAY SONG. 
 The day moves ou und all goes well, 
 More blessings now than we can tell, 
 With giatituJe our hearts do swell: 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 Bless and preserve us still, we pray, 
 With food and raiment line our way, 
 A'ir. keep us to the close cf day 
 
 God ! God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kneel ! kneel ! kneel ! 
 Father of Heaven, 
 To Thee be given 
 Unbounded praise, 
 Through endless days ! 
 And like the sun, 
 
 In Heaven above, 
 Pour on us now 
 
 Thy warmth of love ! 
 And may our feet 
 
 Forever press 
 Th-j virtuous paths 
 
 Which Thou doth bless! 
 To Thee all praise, Lord, God, our Father ! 
 
 T!K noon-day breezes now go by, 
 
 The forest gives a welcome sigh, 
 
 The murmuring streamlets sweet reply : 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 The birds carol, the insects sing, 
 And joy beams out in everything, 
 For which all praise to Thee we bring 
 
 God ! God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kneel ! kneel ! kneel ! 
 Father of Heaven, 
 ^o tliee be given 
 Unbounded praise, 
 Through endless days ! 
 And like the sun, 
 
 In heaven above, 
 Pour on us now 
 
 Thy warmth of love ! 
 And may our feet 
 
 Forever press, 
 The virtuous paths 
 
 Which Thou dost bless ! 
 To thee all praise, Lord, God, our Father ! 
 
 EVENING SONG. 
 The day is dying, wood and wold 
 Are growing dim, as \\'e behold, 
 And night will soon us all enfold : 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 lhat Thou the day hath kept us through, 
 Taught each his duty right to do. 
 
 And made us all so happy too - 
 God ! God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kueel ! kneel ! kncei . 
 All heaven, and earth, and sea, and at), 
 Are marked by' His all-seeing eye, 
 Which will look deep into ihe night, 
 To note if each one doeth right, 
 And watch us in our dreams of sleep, 
 On all our thoughts and actions keep : 
 So may each thought, each deed we d<^ 
 Be one that will bear looking through ! 
 
 And bless us, Thou, 
 
 To whom we bow, 
 
 All humbly now, 
 Most great Lord, God, Almighty ! 
 
 The sun hath set in yonder wi-st, 
 The beasts and birds are seeking rest, 
 All nature is in sable dressed : 
 
 Thanks ! thanks ! thanks ! 
 Preserve us, Thou, till morning light 
 Doth lift the sable vail of night ! 
 May holy angels guard us right, 
 Our sleep be sweet, our dreams be brightj 
 And not a tiling our souls affiright 
 
 God ! God ! God ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Kneel ! kneel ! kneel ! 
 All heaven, and earth, and sea, and sky, 
 Are marked by His all-seeing eye, 
 Which will look deep into the night, 
 To note if each one doeth right, 
 And watch us in our dreams of sleep, 
 On all our thoughts and actions keep : 
 So may each thought, each deed we do, 
 Be one that will bear looking through.' 
 
 And bless us, Thou, 
 
 To whom we bow, 
 
 All humbly now, 
 Most great Lord, God, Almighty ! 
 
 It is impossible for me to convey the 
 iweet and plaintive melody which accom 
 panied each song, and which, before I 
 inew a word that was uttered, produced 
 upon my mind, and that of my friend, the 
 most pleasing and solemn effect particu- 
 arly as we noted that each was accompa 
 nied with an earnestness and sincerity of 
 manner, such as I had rarely witnessed in 
 Christian churches within the borders of 
 civilization. At the end of each of these 
 longs, and while the assemblage remained 
 n the kneeling posture of the chorus, the 
 Old-Man-of-the-Mountains would suddenly 
 make his appearance, and hooping his arms 
 H'fore him and bowing, after the Turkish 
 "ash ion, would utter a few words as a sort 
 >f benediction whereupon all would rise, 
 ind eacli depart quietly to his ledge, or hi 
 >revious occupation. 
 
 The devotional scenes just mentioned 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 were of every day occurrence, when no 
 thing of importance had transpired to elate 
 the actors with joy, or depress them with 
 grief in either of which events, the songs 
 and manner of worship was changed to 
 suit the occasion. 
 
 With this people, a wedding or a funeral 
 was a very important affair ; and as I so 
 journed some two months or more among 
 them, ere my strength permitted me to de 
 part, I had an opportunity of witnessing 
 both. As the former was the first in order 
 of occurrence, I shall proceed to describe 
 it first. 
 
 The bride was an interesting Indian 
 maiden, some seventeen years of age, and 
 the groom a tall, athletic Indian, her senior 
 by at least five more. Both were becom 
 ingly decked with wampum belts, figured 
 moccasins, and various ornaments worn 
 around the neck and arms ; those of the 
 maiden being bare above the elbow, and 
 displaying her rich, dark skin to good ad 
 vantage. Around the head of each was 
 bound a wreath of ivy, diversified with a 
 few sprigs of cedar, emblematical, as I was 
 informed, of their love, which must ever 
 remain green and unfading. 
 
 O O 
 
 The nuptial ceremony took place in the 
 lodge of the bride, and was as follows : On 
 the announcement that all was ready, a 
 deputation of maidens, consisting for the 
 most part of Prairie Flower and her com 
 panions, surrounded the bride, and placing 
 their hand on her head, asked her several 
 questions pertaining to herself and lover, 
 the most important of which were, if she 
 truly loved him she was about to take for 
 ever, and thought that marriage would in 
 crease her happiness. Receiving replies 
 in the affirmative, they commenced singing 
 in a lov.^ melodious tone, the subjoined 
 
 BRIDAL SONG. 
 
 Blooming maiden, 
 
 Heavy laden 
 With IK>\V hopes, and joys, and fears 
 
 Sad with gladness, 
 
 Glad with sadness, 
 Thou art going, young in years, 
 
 To another, 
 
 More than brother, 
 
 Father, mother, 
 
 Ur aught other 
 WU<lt among thy race appear*. 
 
 We have bound thee, 
 Aa we fovyid the*, 
 
 With unfading green wreathed the* 
 
 Emblem fitting, 
 
 Unremitting 
 Must thy love forever be ; 
 
 That thou ever 
 
 Must endeavor 
 
 Not to sever, 
 
 Now, nor never, 
 Bonds of time, eternity. 
 
 Now go, maiden, 
 
 Sweetly laden 
 
 With all blessings we've in store- 
 Take him to thee, 
 
 Who did woo thee, 
 Deeper love him than before : 
 
 God be sending 
 
 His defending, 
 
 Joy portending, 
 
 Never ending 
 Blessings on thee, evermore ! 
 
 On the conclusion of this song, each of 
 the singers laid her right hand upon the 
 head of the bride, and commenced danc 
 ing around her in a circle. This lasted 
 some ten minutes, during which time a 
 deputation of Indian youths or what in 
 any other tribe would have been termed 
 braves led forward the groom to within 
 a few feet of his intended, and commenced 
 a similar dance around him, accompany 
 ing it with a song, the same in sentiment, 
 if not in language, as the one just given. 
 This dance over, the youths and maidens 
 fell back in two rows, facing each other, 
 while the groom and bride modestly ad 
 vanced, unattended, and took hold ^of 
 hands. 
 
 In this manner all quitted the lodge for 
 the open air, where the villagers were 
 drawn up to receive them, and who imme 
 diately formed a dense circle around them. 
 Then, amid a deep silence, all kneeled 
 upon the earth, and rising, pointed their 
 right fore-lingers to the sky, and bowed to 
 the four great points of compass. Then 
 all, save the bride and groom, united in 
 the following 
 
 BRIDAL CHORDS 
 Joined in heart, and joined in hand, 
 
 By great Heaven's wise decree, 
 Ye must ever so endeavor, 
 
 That you ne'er may parted be 
 
 Never ! never ! 
 
 So, forever, 
 May Almighty Power bless ye 
 
 In your prime, 
 
 And through all time, 
 And on through all eternity ! 
 
 As the chorus concluded, the ring opened. 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 and the Old-Man-of-the-Mountains made 
 his appearance, bearing in one hand a 
 long staff, and in the other a horn cup 
 of smoking incense, which he waved to 
 and fro. Approaching the bride and 
 groom, he held it between them, and lay 
 ing his staff on their heads, and bidding 
 them again join hands, he proceeded to 
 tjh.'int, in a feeble, cracked voice, the 
 
 CLOSING MARRIAGE STRAIN. 
 
 As this incense to Heaven, 
 
 So your vows here are given, 
 And written by angels above, 
 
 On the ponderous pages, 
 
 Of the great Book of Ages, 
 And stamped with His great seal of Love. 
 
 By earth and by air, 
 
 By water and fire, 
 By everything under the sun 
 
 By your own plighted faith, 
 
 To he true unto death, 
 In God's name I pronounce you twain one. 
 
 Waving his stick once more above their 
 Heads, and uttering his usual word " Onh- 
 chi," Great Medicine retraced his steps to 
 his lodge. On his departure, the friends 
 of the newly married pair stepped forward 
 in the order of relation, and greeted both 
 with a hearty shaking of hands, and 'invo 
 cations of blessings from the Great Spirit 
 Then followed a feast prepared for the 
 occasion, consisting principally of buffalo, 
 bear and deer meat, together with that of 
 v^ious wild fowls. This was eaten seat 
 ed upon buffalo skins, and was served to 
 the larger party by four waiters, two of 
 both sexes. After this came one or two 
 more songs, in which all joined, and a 
 general dance closed the festivities of the 
 day. 
 
 The funeral which I witnessed, was that 
 of a young man greatly beloved by his 
 tribe. The day succeeding his death, was 
 the one appointed for the solemn ceremony 
 of sepulture. Meantime the body remain 
 ed in the lodge where the vital spark had 
 been extinguished, and, locked up with it 
 from all intrusion, remained also the near 
 relatives of the deceased, fasting and em 
 ploying their moments in prayer. 
 
 When the time for the funeral service 
 ad arrived, four Indian youths who had 
 been companions of the deceased, entered 
 the lodge, and wrapping the body in a buf 
 falo-hide, bore it to that of Great Medi- 
 Wn-:, and deposited it on the ground, out 
 
 side. Hither followed tKe relatives, theii 
 heads bound with withered flowers, and 
 leaves, emblematical of tho decay of every 
 thing earthly, however fair and beautiful. 
 Forming a narrow circle round the body, 
 they kneeled upon the earth, and placing 
 their right hands upon the breast of tho 
 departed, and their left upon their hearts, 
 uttered low and plaintive moans the sig 
 nal that all was ready for the mournful 
 rite. Next appeared Prairie Flower, with 
 three other maidens, and approaching the 
 youths, all clasped hands and formed a 
 ring outside the circle of kneeling and 
 weeping relatives. Then they commenced 
 walking round the living and dead, and as 
 they passed the head of the latter, each 
 uttered a short prayer that his noble spirit 
 might find eternal rest beyond the grave. 
 When this was concluded, Great Medicine 
 appeared, holding in his hand a drum, 
 which he beat rapidly a few times, where 
 upon the remainder of the villagers came 
 forth from their lodges, and formed a third 
 circle outside of all. The second circl j 
 now fell back to the largest, leaving a wid ) 
 space between it and the mourners, wh i 
 still remained kneeling as before. A short 
 silence followed, when the leader of thj 
 corpse bearers stepped forward and set 
 forth, in a clear, musical tone, the manT 
 virtues of the dead, and pronounced u 
 eloquent eulogy over his remains. 
 
 On the conclusion of this, the speakei 
 took his place among the rest, when aQ 
 broke forth in the following 
 
 FUNERAL DIRGE. 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 From earth gone forever : 
 
 No more here we'll meet him, 
 No more here we'll greet him, 
 
 No more, nevermore 
 
 All is o'er, evermore 
 
 Forever ! forever ! 
 He's gone from the mortal 
 He's passed Death's great portal- 
 
 And now will his spirit 
 
 Forever inherit, 
 
 In regions of bliss, 
 
 What it could not in this. 
 Passed from all sorrow, 
 
 Vexation and care, 
 Gone to the regions 
 
 That bright angels share, 
 In yon golden Heaven 
 
 His spirit will rest, 
 \Vith joys the most holy 
 
 Forever be blessed. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Wep ! weep ! weep ! 
 But weep not in sorrow : 
 With tears bend above him, 
 With tears show you love him 
 But weep for relief, 
 Rather than grief 
 
 For to-inorrow to-morrow 
 Ye may join him in glory, 
 To tell the bright story, 
 Of earthly denials, 
 Losses and trials, 
 Of unwavering faith, 
 Of your joy to meet death, 
 That your spirit in freedom 
 
 Forever might roam, 
 O'er the sweet vales of Eden, 
 
 Your last lovely home 
 To join there in singing, 
 
 As bright angels do, 
 The songs of Great Spirit, 
 Eternity through 
 
 This was sung to a mournful tune, and 
 when the last strain had died away upon 
 the air, all simultaneously dropped upon 
 their knees, and bowed their heads to the 
 earth in token of submission to the Divine 
 will. Then they rose to their feet; mourn 
 ers and all, and forming themselves into 
 two long lines, the four bearers proceeded 
 to raise the corpse slowly and in silence ; 
 and preceded by Great Medicine, and fol- 
 low^dby the maidens, the relatives and the 
 rest, two by two, all moved solemnly for 
 ward to the last earthly resting place of 
 the de?d a rude grave scooped out in the 
 side of *he mountain, some forty rods dis 
 tant from the village. 
 
 Deporiting the body in the ground with 
 iril due -everence, the bearers threw upon 
 it a hardful of loose earth, and moved 
 aside for the others to do the same. This 
 eoncludei, the villagers formed a large 
 ring around the open grave, when Great 
 Med'cim stepped forward to the center 
 aoi! <sha v nted 
 
 THE LAST 
 
 Formed of dust 
 
 The spirit apurneth, 
 Back to dust 
 
 The body turneth 
 But the spirit, 
 
 Passed death's-portal, 
 Dotli become 
 
 A thing immortal. 
 
 Ye who mourn him, 
 
 Be unshaken, 
 That Who gave, 
 
 Again hath taken 
 
 6 
 
 That the dead, 
 
 Before ye lying, 
 Made a happy 
 
 Change in dyinj 
 And ye dead, 
 
 Here rest in quiet, 
 Till ye hear 
 
 The final fiat, 
 That in voice, 
 
 More loud than thundei, 
 Shall command 
 
 Your tomb asunder! 
 To earth we consign thee ! 
 To God we resign thee ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sleep ! sleep ! sleep ! 
 The birds shall carol o'er thy head, 
 The stream shall murmur o'er its bed, 
 The breeze shall make the forest sigh, 
 And flowers above thee bloom and die 
 But birds, and stream, and breeze, and flowers, 
 Shall joy no more thy sleeping hours. 
 To earth we consign thee ! 
 To God we resign tkee ! 
 Farewell ! 
 
 The chorus was sung by all with im 
 pressive solemnity, and on its conclusion, 
 the four corpse bearers advanced, and with 
 wooden spades buried the dead for ever 
 from the sight of the living. Two by two, 
 in the same order they had come hither, 
 the whole party returned to the villao-e, 
 and the day was spent in fasting and devo 
 tional exercises. 
 
 The food of the Great Medicine Nation 
 consisted, for the most part, of meat of 
 various wild animals, which they gener 
 ally killed with rifles, together with a few 
 fish, for which they angled in the streams. 
 Sometimes they planted and raised a small 
 patch of corn, as was the case in the pre 
 sent instance ; but their roving life, as a 
 general tiling, led them to depend upon 
 such vegetable food as chanced in their 
 way. Among them they owned some fif 
 teen horses, as many tame goats, which 
 they milked daily, and twice the number 
 of mules. They also owned a few traps, 
 and when in a beaver country, did not fail 
 using them to procure pelts ; which, to 
 gether with buffalo and bear skins, they 
 traded with the whites for such extras as 
 they considered useful. With them, all 
 property, with the exception of bodily rai 
 ment, was in common ; and each labored, 
 not for himself alone, but for his neighboi 
 also. During the day their animals fed 
 around the encampment, and in the valley 
 at the base of the mountain but at nio-hl 
 
TUB PRATRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 all were driven in and carrelled, or yarded, 
 within the village. 
 
 Never before had I seen a people appear 
 so wholly content with whatever Provi 
 dence might give them, and so perfectly 
 happy among themselves , and the time I 
 spent with them, however singular the 
 statement may seem to others, I must ac 
 count one of the most pleasant periods of 
 nay life 
 
 o 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 RESOLVE TO RESUME OUR JOURNEY AN- 
 
 VOUNCSMKNT TO PRAIRIE FLOWER HER 
 
 SURPRISE AND REGRET DANGERS ENUME 
 RATED A CARELESS QUESTION ABRUPT 
 
 ANSWER ALARMING AGITATION OF PRAI 
 RIE FLOWER OUR JOURNEY POSTPONED 
 
 FOR THREE DAYS HASTY DEPARTURE OF 
 
 PRAIRIE FLOWER. 
 
 IT was about the beginning of Septem 
 ber, that I found my wounds so far healed 
 and my strength so much recovered, as to 
 think seriously of taking my departure. 
 The air, too, on the mountains was becom 
 ing cool and frosty ; and as my friend and 
 I had decided on crossing to Oregon or 
 California before the snow-storms of win 
 ter should entirely bar our progress, we 
 thought best to be on the move as soon 
 as possible. 
 
 Daring my stay in the village, I had 
 seen and conversed more or less with Prai 
 rie Flower every day. and noted with re 
 gret that hsr features gradually grew more 
 and more pale, her eye more languid and 
 less bright, her step less elastic and buoy 
 ant, and that she moved slowly and heav 
 ily over the ground, with her head bent 
 forward in a mood of deep abstraction. 
 The cause of this I was at no loss to con 
 jecture, particularly as I saw a studied 
 effort on her part to avoid my friend on all 
 occasions, and that, when they did meet, 
 she ever exhibited toward him a coldness 
 totally foreign to her warm, frank, open, 
 generous nature. Huntly noticed her 
 seeming aversion to him, with less philos 
 ophy than I had expected to see him dis 
 play. In fact he became exceedingly 
 troubled about it, and often told me with 
 a sigh, that he must have been mistaken 
 that she did not love him but that it was 
 
 me on whom her affections were placed. 
 
 contradicted him only so far as to say, 
 that she cared no more for me than for 
 him ; but did not care to tell him the real 
 ause of her coldness for I saw it wouid 
 only serve to inflame his passion, and, 
 from what I could judge, render both the 
 more unhappy. 
 
 That Prairie Flower loved my friend, 
 and that too against her wiL ,was to me ai 
 clear as daylight ; and the anguish it must 
 have cost her gentle heart to avoid and 
 appear cold and indifferent toward him, 1 
 could better imagine than realize. Sev 
 eral times had I been tempted to broach 
 to her the subject, that I might learn from 
 her lips the true state of her heart ; but 
 the slightest allusion to my friend, always 
 produced such visible, painful embarrass 
 ment, that I instantly abandoned the idea, 
 and adroitly changed the conversation to 
 something as foreign as possible. Of one 
 thing I became satisfied ; and that was, 
 that the sooner we took our departure, the 
 better it would be for all parties ; for both 
 Prairie Flower and Huntly were becoming 
 touched with a melancholy that I feared 
 might lead to something more serious. 
 
 O O 
 
 Accordingly, as soon as I fancied my 
 strength sufficient to encounter the fatimie 
 
 ^ 
 
 of a perilous journey, I announced mv 
 intention to Huntly, and wrung from h'ra 
 a reluctant consent to depart forthwith. 
 My next move was to see Prairie Flower, 
 and announce the same to her. As chance 
 would have it, I shortly discovered her 
 just outside the village, taking a stroll by 
 herself a habit which had now become 
 with her of daily occurrence. Bidding 
 my friend remain in the village, I hasten 
 ed after, and presently overtook her ; but 
 so deep was she buried in meditation, that 
 my steps, close behind, failed to rouse her 
 from her reverie. 
 
 " You seem lost in communion with 
 your own thoughts, sweet Prairie Flower," 
 I said, in a cheerful tone; " and were I 
 bent on surprising you, I might have done 
 so to good advantage." 
 
 She started, a slight flush sn (fused he? 
 pale features, and turning her lovely coun 
 tenance upon me, with an ex|>res.-i<m ot 
 deep surprise, she rallied herself lor t 
 reply. 
 
 " Really, I must crave pardon, lit 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Leigh ton but I was so engaged in re 
 flecting on a various matters, that I 
 failed to catch the sound of your footsteps." 
 
 " I saw you were deeply abstracted, and 
 would not have intruded on your privacy, 
 only that I have a matter of some little 
 moment to communicate." 
 
 " Indeed ! " she rejoined, turning dead 
 ly pale and trembling nervously : " I trust 
 nothing has happened to to any one ?" 
 
 "Give yourself no uneasiness, dear Prai 
 rie Flower. I have only come to thank 
 you, and through you your friends, for the 
 kindness and unbounded hospitality of all 
 to myself and Hntly, and inform you 
 that we are on the point of taking our de 
 parture." 
 
 For a moment after I spoke, Prairie 
 Flower stoo'd staring upon me with an 
 expression of intense anguish, her breast 
 hea\ ing tumultuously, and apparently with 
 out the power to utter a syllable in reply. 
 A*' length, placing her hand to her throat, 
 as if she felt a choking sensation, she fairly 
 gasped forth : 
 
 " Not not going surely ? " 
 
 " I fear we must, dear Prairie Flower," 
 I answered sadly for I felt touched to the 
 very soul at this unusual display of feeling 
 and sorrowful regret at our departure 
 coming too from one to whom both Huntly 
 and I were under such deep obligations 
 for the preservation of our lives, and the 
 many kindnesses we had received. "We 
 have intruded upon your hospitality too 
 long already," I continued, "and have at 
 last decided to depart immediately." 
 
 " But but your wounds ? " 
 
 " Are nearly healed." 
 
 " And your your strength ? " 
 
 "Sufficient for the journey, I think." 
 
 " And whi her go you ? " 
 
 " Over the mountains to Oregon, or 
 California, as the case may be." 
 
 "But have you considered the dangers ? " 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " But the Indians maybe in your path ? " 
 
 " We must take our chance, then, as be 
 fore. We have decided on taking a new 
 route, however, and consequently will 
 avoid all ambuscades." 
 
 " Still there are ten thousand dangers 
 or a new route. You may get lost, get 
 ouried in the snows of the mountains, fall 
 over some precipice or, escaping all these, 
 
 get captured by some roving tribe and put 
 to the tortures." 
 
 " There are many dangers, sweet Prai 
 rie Flower, as you say ; but had we feared 
 to encounter them, we should never have 
 been here." 
 
 " But you have no horses." 
 
 " We can purchase them at Fort Lara- 
 mie, together with what other things we 
 may need.'' 
 
 " You have no companions ! " 
 
 " We may find some there, also if not, 
 we can venture alone." 
 
 " But but . You will go, then ? " 
 
 " I fear we must loth as we are to part 
 from you and your people, with whom (I 
 wish not to flatter when I say it) some of 
 the happiest moments of my life have been 
 spent." 
 
 For some time Prairie Flower did not 
 reply, during which her eyes were cast 
 upon the ground, and a look of deep sor 
 row settled over her lovely features, and 
 her bosom lieaved with internal emotions. 
 Raising her soft, dark eyes again to mine, 
 I was pained to behold them slightly dim 
 med with tears, which she had striven in 
 vain to repress. 
 
 " I did not think," she said, with a deep 
 sigh, " that you would leave us so soon." 
 
 " Soon ? dear Prairie Flower ! God bless 
 your noble soul ! Soon, say you ? Why, 
 have we not been here two long months 
 and more ? " 
 
 "True," she answered, as I fancied a 
 little reproachfully, " I had forgotten that 
 the time must have seemed long to you." 
 " Nay, sweet Prairie Flower, I meant 
 not that. You are too sensitive you mis 
 construe me. I only meant, it was long 
 for utter strangers to share your hospitali 
 ty, and trouble you with their presence." 
 
 " You would not trouble us if you staid 
 forever," she rejoined, with an air of such 
 sweet simplicity, that in spite of all my as 
 sumed stoicism, I felt a tear trembling ia 
 my eye. 
 
 Prairie Flower saw it, and quickly add 
 ed, with an earnest, tender expression, 
 which could only be realized by being 
 seen : 
 
 " Oh sir ! I fear I have wounded your 
 feelings ! " 
 
 No wonder Huntly was in love, if h 
 had ever seen anything like tin's for witk 
 
&i 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 ai\ my philosophy and sober reasoning, I 
 felt myself in a fair way of becoming his 
 rival. 
 
 " God bless you, Prairie Flower ! " I 
 exclaimed from my very heart. " If Heav 
 en holds many like you, no wonder it is a 
 paradise beyond mortal conception." 
 
 " 0, do not compare me with those who 
 dwell in that bright realm," she quickly 
 rejoined ;" for I at best am only a poor 
 sinful mortal." 
 
 " Then God help me ! " I ejaculated 
 " if you are considered a sinner." 
 
 " But your your friend?" she said, 
 hesitatingly. " Is he anxious to leave 
 us?" 
 
 She strove to assume an indifference as 
 she said this, but the effort to do so only 
 the more exposed her feelings, of which 
 becoming aware, she blushed deeply, and 
 on the conclusion hung her head in real 
 embarrassment. 
 
 " No, dear Prairie Flower, " I said, ap 
 pearing not to notice her confusion ; " my 
 friend is not anxious to leave ; on the con 
 trary, it was with much difficulty I could 
 convince him of the necessity of our im- 
 mucliau} departure, and gain his consent to 
 set forth." 
 
 "And wherefore, do you think, is he 
 loth to go?" she asked, carelessly turn 
 ing her head aside, and stooping to pick 
 a beautiful flower that was growing at 
 her feet. 
 
 "Because sweet Prairie Flower goes 
 not with him," I answered, rather abrupt 
 ly, curious to see what effect such infor 
 mation would produce. 
 
 The next moment I regretted I had not 
 hinted, rather than spoken, this important 
 truth. As I pronounced the sentence, the 
 hand of Prairie Flower, which already 
 clasped the stem of the flower in the act 
 of breaking it, became violently agitated 
 and relaxed its hold ; while its owner, 
 raising her face, as pale as death, stag 
 gered back, and, but for my support, would 
 have fallen to the ground. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! Prairie Flower," I 
 exclaimed, throwing an arm around her 
 lendei waist, and feigning ignorance of 
 
 the cause of her agitation ; " what LM 
 happened ? Are you bit, or stung ? 
 Speak ! quick ! tell me ! " 
 
 " A-a-little weakness a-a-sudden weak 
 ness a-a-kind of faintness," she stam 
 mered, endeavoring to recover her compo- . 
 sure, and evidently relieved that I had not 
 imputed her agitation to the right cause. 
 " I don't know that I ever was so affeqted 
 before," she continued, smiling faintly. 
 " But I think it will soon pass away. I 
 feel much relieved now. There, there 
 thank you ! that will do. Quite sudden, 
 was it not ? " 
 
 "Quite, indeed!" I replied, adding 
 mentally, " Poor, poor girl ! how I pity 
 thee ! thy peace of mind is gone for 
 ever." 
 
 " But you spoke of leaving immediate 
 ly," she resumed. "What day have you 
 set for your departure ? " 
 
 " This." 
 
 " Not to-day, surely ! " she exclaimed, 
 in surprise. 
 
 " So had we determined." 
 
 "But you must not go to-day ! " 
 
 "And why not? " 
 
 " 0, it is not right to leave us so ab 
 ruptly ; and besides, I have reasons for 
 wishing you to delay three days at least 1 " 
 
 "What reasons ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell you now ; but remain, 
 and you shall know." 
 
 " Anything to please you, swe>t Prairi* 
 Flower." 
 
 " Then I have your promise ? " 
 
 " You have." 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you ! yi will 
 not regret it. But come, let us return to 
 the village, for I see the sun is three good 
 hours above the hills, and I have * long 
 journey before me." 
 
 " What ! are you going to leave, thn ? " 
 
 " I must ! I have important business. 
 But ask me no questions, and do not de 
 part till I return." 
 
 Half an hour later, Prairie Flower 
 mounted on her beautiful Indian pony, a* 
 I had first beheld her at Fort Laramie, 
 rode swiftly out of the village, unattended, 
 and disappeared down the mountain. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 RHAIUIE FLOWER STILL ABSENT RESOLVE 
 
 TO DEPART BID OUR FRIENDS ADIEU SET 
 
 FORWARD WITH OUR GUIDE UNEXPECT 
 ED MEETING WITH PRAIRIE FLOWER 
 
 RETURN TO THE VILLAGE A SPLENDID 
 
 PRESENT OUR ROUTE CHANGED ^SECOND 
 
 ADIEU PRATRTE FLOWER AS GUIDE OUR 
 
 .LAST PAINFUL PARTING WITH OUR SWEET 
 BENEFACTRESS. 
 
 THREE days dragged on wearily for 
 without Prairie Flower, the Indian village 
 Deemed gloomy and insipid both to Humtiy 
 and myself and the fourth morning had 
 come, and yet our fair benefactress had not 
 made her appearance. Where had she gone, 
 and wherefore did she not return? We ques 
 tioned several of the villagers; but all shook 
 their heads and replied, some in good and 
 some in broken English, that they did not 
 know, that she was frequently absent a 
 month at a time, and that she rarely told 
 on leaving where she was going or when 
 she would return. Perhaps, then, her 
 journey was merely taken to avoid a fare 
 well scene, thinking we should depart in 
 her absence ; and this I mentioned to 
 Huntly, whose surmises I found corres 
 ponded with mine. 
 
 She has done it," he said, somewhat 
 itterly, "to put a slight upon us, or rather 
 pon me, whose presence lately seems 
 ost offensive to her ; and for myself 
 I am going to leave you can do as you 
 ike." 
 
 In this I knew my friend was wrong al- 
 rether; but I did not contradict him 
 or under the circumstances, I preferred he 
 hould think as he did, rather than be 
 ade aware of what, as I imagined, was 
 e true cause of her actions. I therefore 
 eplied : 
 
 " Let us away, then, as soon as pos- 
 ible." 
 "Agreed." 
 
 Upon this we hastened to bid our Indian 
 lends a long adieu, who seemed greatly 
 urprised and expressed astonishment that 
 ve should leave so suddenly, without hav- 
 ng given them a previous notice. Hav- 
 ng gone the entire rounds, shook the dus- 
 f hands of each, young and old Great 
 edicine not excepted, who enlarged his 
 
 small, dark eyes to their utmost tension, 
 but merely grunted a farewell and thank 
 ed each and all heartily for their hospitality 
 and kindness to us as strangers, we pre 
 pared to set out at once for Fort Laramie. 
 As the direct route was unknown to us, 
 we inquired the way particularly where 
 upon a stout, rather good-looking, intelli 
 gent Indian youth volunteered his services 
 to act as guide a proposition which we 
 readily and gratefully accepted, witli a 
 promised reward when we should arrive 
 safely at our destination. 
 
 It was a bright, clear, frosty morning, 
 and the sun, just rising above the moun 
 tains, poured down his radiant light, glad 
 dening the forest and our hearts witli his 
 presence ; and this, together with the bra 
 cing air, the freedom we fancied we were 
 
 O 
 
 about to experience after our long confine 
 ment, in being once more upon our journey 
 in good health, produced feelings of buoy 
 ancy and independence, such as we had not 
 known for many a long day. 
 
 Our gukie had left us, as he said, to 
 make preparations for our journey, and we 
 were already becoming impatient at what 
 we considered his tardiness, when, to our 
 surprise, he reappeared, mounted on one, 
 and leading two horses, which he signifi 
 cantly intimated were at our service. This 
 was a kindness we could fully appreciate, 
 and of course felt no desire to chide him 
 for his delay. Thanking him in unmea 
 sured terms for his happy foresight in thus 
 insuring us speed and safety against fa 
 tigue, we vaulted into the saddles with as 
 much agility as if we had never known a 
 mishap. 
 
 Waving a silent adieu to the villagers, 
 who came forth in a body to see us depart, 
 we turned our horses' heads down the hill, 
 and setting forward, soon reached the val 
 ley, crossed the stream, and burying our 
 selves in the forest, shut the Indian village 
 completely from our view. 
 
 " Well, Frank," exclaimed Huntly, gay- 
 ly, as with a spirited gallop we buried our 
 selves deeper and deeper in the forest of 
 the valley, " this seems like old times 
 eh ! my dear fellow ? " 
 
 " It does, indeed ! " I replied in the 
 same joyous manner, as I felt the warm 
 blood of active excitement again cours 
 ing through all my veins. 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER: OR 
 
 Scarcely had the words passed my lips, 
 when our guide, who was riding in ad 
 vance, suddenly drew rein, brought his 
 horse to a halt, and exclaimed : 
 
 " She comes ! " 
 
 Ere we had time to inquire who, we be 
 held, much to our surprise, the beautiful 
 Prairie Flower dashing up the valley we 
 were descending, directly in our front. Of 
 course there was no means of avoiding 
 her, had we designed doing so, and ac 
 cordingly we rode slowly forward to meet 
 her. As we advanced, I could perceive 
 that her pale features looked unusually 
 care-worn, and that her lips were com 
 pressed, as by some inward struggle to 
 appear entirely at her ease. As we met, 
 she said, half in jest and half in earnest, 
 while a slight flush tinted her cheeks and 
 made her sweet countenance look lovely 
 beyond description : 
 
 " Good morning, my friends. Not run 
 ning away, surely ? " 
 
 " Why," I answered, in some confusion, 
 " we have bidden our friends of the village 
 a last adieu, and are, as you see, already 
 on our journey." 
 
 " Indeed ! you surprise me ! And could 
 you not have deferred your departure till 
 my return ? " 
 
 " Why, the fact is we that is I we 
 waited three days the time mentioned by 
 you and as we thought that as you had 
 not made your appearance that " 
 
 " I would not return at all," she rejoined, 
 completing the sentence which my embar 
 rassment forced me to leave unfinished. 
 " I truly grieve, my friends," she contin 
 ued, with a look of sorrowful reproach, 
 " that, having known me so long, you 
 should be led to doubt my word. Did I 
 ever deceive you, that you thought I might 
 again ? " 
 
 "Never! never!" cried both Huntly 
 and I in the same breath, while the con 
 science of each accused him of having done 
 wrong. "But as the three days had ex 
 pired," I added, by way of justification, 
 " and as none of the villagers knew whither 
 you had gone, we feared to tarry longer, 
 lest the coming storms of winter should 
 catch us on the mountains." 
 
 'Perhaps, then, you were right after 
 ail," she said with a sigh. " True, I did 
 not return so soon as I expected, on 
 
 account of an unforseen delay ; and though 
 I did request you not to depart till I came 
 back, and though I fondly relied on seeing 
 you again, still I must admit that your pro 
 mise has been faithfully kept, and that you 
 had a perfect right to go, and I none to 
 think you would stay to your own incon 
 venience." 
 
 This was said in a tone so sad, with 
 such modest simplicity, that, knowing the 
 true state of her heart, and remembering 
 that to her generous nature and untiring 
 watchfulness and care we both owed our 
 lives, every word sunk like burning lava 
 into my heart, and I felt condemned be 
 yond the power of self-defence. For a 
 moment I knew not what nor how to re 
 ply, while Prairie Flower dropped her eyea 
 to the ground and seemed hurt to the very 
 soul. 
 
 " Forgive us, sweet Prairie Flower ! " I 
 at length exclaimed, to the promptings of 
 my better nature. " Forgive us both, fof 
 having done you wrong ! I cannot exone 
 rate myself, whatever my friend may do. 
 I had no right to doubt you no right to 
 wound your feelings by leaving in a man* 
 ner so cold, so contrary to the dictates of 
 friendship and gratitude. But still, dear 
 Prairie Flower, if you knew all my motives, 
 you would, perhaps, blame me less " 
 
 She looked up at the last words, caught 
 the expression of my eye, and seemed to 
 comprehend my meaning at a glance ; foi 
 she colored deeply, turned aside her he 
 and quickly answered : 
 
 " I do not blame you. Let it pass. Bi 
 whither are you bound ? " 
 
 " To Fort Laramie." 
 
 " I trust, then, I have saved you thai 
 journey." 
 
 " Indeed ! " I exclaimed in surprise, a; 
 a new idea suddenly flashed across mj 
 mind. " You have been there, then ? " 
 
 " I have." 
 
 "And all for us?" 
 
 " But for you, I do not think I shoul< 
 have gone at present." 
 
 " God bless your noble, generous soul ! ' 
 I cried, feeling more condemned than evei 
 " How fortunate that we have met you 
 that we can at least make the slight repa 
 ration of apology and regret for havia 
 misconstrued your motives ! What mm 
 have been your feelings, had you returnee 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 87 
 
 rour heart bounding with delight at hav- 
 >H done us a service, and found we had 
 repaid you by leaving in your absence, 
 without even so much as thanks for your 
 kindness !" 
 
 "1 should have felt hurt and grieved, I 
 must own," she answered, quietly. 
 
 " It is my fault, Prairie Flower," said 
 Huntly, riding up to her side. " Blame 
 me for all, and not my friend ! To speak j 
 plainly,! fancied my presence was hateful to 
 you, and that you had gone away, merely 
 Lo put a Slight upon me, by avoiding even to I 
 the last, as you had Avoided me all along." i 
 
 " You you think this ? " cried Prairie | 
 Flower, turning upon him a look of an 
 guish I shall never forget, and becoming 
 so agitated she could scarcely sit her 
 horse. " You think this ? 0, no, no, no ! 
 you did not, could not, think I intended to 
 insult you !" and she buried her face in 
 her hands and shook violently. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! what have I done ! " 
 erred Huntly in alarm. " Look up, sweet 
 Prairie Flower look up and forgive me ! 
 If I thought so then, I do not think so 
 now, and God pardon me for harboring 
 such a thought at all ! But I could not un 
 derstand why you avoided me, unless it 
 was through dislike in which case niy 
 absence would be little likely to cause a 
 regret. 1 see my mistake now, and am 
 satisfied that, whatever your motive might 
 have been, it was one which you at least 
 fell to be rii'ht and pure." 
 
 " Indeed it was ! " returned Prairie 
 Flower, raising her sweet, sad face, and 
 her soft, dark eyes to his, and then modest 
 ly (iropping her gaze to the ground. 
 
 Huntly seemed about to reply, but 
 paused and gazed silently upon Prairie 
 Flower, who, again raising her eyes, and 
 meeting a peculiar glance fromhirn, blushed 
 and turned her head quickly away. It 
 was evident that both were getting embar- 
 
 o o 
 
 rassed, and I hastened to relieve them by 
 saying : 
 
 " And what news from Fort Laramie, 
 Prairie Flower ? What of our friends ? " 
 
 " I could learn nothing definite, save 
 that eight only, of the sixteen with whom 
 you went into battle, returned, and that the 
 rest, including yourselves, were supposed 
 to have been killed or taken prisoners. 
 One of the fc -mer, I think they called him 
 
 an Irishman, made great lamentations over 
 you, declaring that the Indians or wild 
 beasts had destroyed you." 
 
 " Poor Teddy ! " I sighed ; " he did in 
 deed love us. But what became of him.? " 
 
 " He left a few days after, with a party 
 of trappers." 
 
 " Then it may be a long time before we 
 meet again, if ever. But do you think we 
 can procure a regular outfit at the fort?" 
 
 " What do you require ? " 
 
 " Two good horses, a brace of rifles, 
 plenty of ammunition, and three or four 
 buffalo skins. By the way, this reminds 
 me that we left our possibles at the fort, 
 stuffed with clothes, which will now be of 
 valuable service." 
 
 " Come with me to the village," rejoin 
 ed Prairie Flower, " and we will talk the 
 matter over." 
 
 " Why, as we are so far on the way, it 
 will only cause us unnecessary delay ; be 
 sides, we have spoken our farewells to all, 
 and turning back, when once started on a 
 journey, is said to give bad luck." 
 
 " Yet I have but one observation to 
 make to all your objections," returned 
 Prairie Flower, peremptorily ; " and that 
 is, you must come*with me." 
 
 " If you insist on it, certainly." 
 
 "I do." 
 
 On this we turned, without more ado, 
 and took our way back, wondering what 
 new mystery .or surprise would greet us 
 next. The Indians appeared more rejoiced 
 than astonished at seeing us again, and 
 crowded around us, and shook our hands, 
 with as much apparent delight as if we 
 had been absent a month. 
 
 " What is the utmost limit of your stay 
 with us, my friends ? " inquired Prairie 
 Flower. 
 
 "An hour is the extreme," I replied* 
 
 Upon this she turned and addressed a 
 few words to the young Indian who had 
 volunteered to act as our guide, and then 
 bidding us dismount and follow her, she 
 led the way into the lodge of Great Med 
 icine. Making some excuse, she went out, 
 and shortly returned, bringing with her 
 our rifles and plenty of powder and balL 
 
 " Now that you are going," she said, 
 " I will restore you your arms, with a 
 sincere prayer that, with the aid of Hea 
 ven, they may prove sufficient to preserT* 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 youi lives from your natural enemies, the 
 savages and wild beasts." 
 
 Here was another unexpected kindness, 
 and both Huntly and myself were profuse 
 in pur thanks. Prairie Flower then in 
 quired the route we intended to take ; and 
 being answered that this would depend 
 much upon circumstances, she advised us 
 to cross the Black Hills some ten miles 
 south of our present location, and hold 
 our course westward over Laramie plains, 
 Medicine Bow Mountains, and the North 
 Fork of Platte, to Brown's Hole on Green 
 River, where doubtless we should find 
 many trappers, and perhaps some of our 
 old acquaintances giving as a reason for 
 directing us thus, that there would be less 
 danger from the Indians, who, notwith 
 standing our signal victory at Bitter Cot- 
 tonwood, still continued in parties along 
 the regular Oregon route, killing the 
 whites whenever they could do so without 
 too much risk to themselves. 
 
 Thanking Prairie Flower for her advice, 
 I replied that, having reached Fort Lara 
 mie, it would be doubtful if we returned 
 ihis way that in all probability we should 
 join some party of emigrants or, failing 
 in this, take a middle course and run our 
 risks. 
 
 "But I see no necessity for your going 
 to Fort Laramie," she rejoined. 
 
 " You forget, Prairie Flower, that we 
 have no horses, and it would be foolish at 
 least to attempt such a journey on foot." 
 
 To this she made no direct reply, but 
 went on suggesting various things for our 
 convenience and safety, with as much ap 
 parent concern for our welfare, as if her 
 own life and fortunes were bound up in 
 ours. 
 
 At length the conversation slacked, and 
 thinking it a good opportunity, I declared 
 that our time had expired, and that we 
 must start forthwith. 
 
 "Well, I will not detain you longer," 
 replied Prairie Flower, leading -the way 
 out of the cabin. 
 
 To our surprise, we found at the door 
 two beautiful steeds, (not the ones we had 
 .just ridden,) richly adorned with Spanish 
 saddles, bridles, and apishamores,* with 
 
 blankets of buffalo calf-skin, dressed 
 
 two sacks of jerked meat hanging to tb 
 horns, and four large buffalo skins strap 
 ped on behind, while along side stood thY 
 handsome pony of our fair benefactress, 
 each and all ready for a start. 
 
 "What mean these?" I inquired, turn 
 ing to Prairie Flower. 
 
 " Simply," she answered, with the ut 
 most naivete, "that you must accept frcua 
 me these horses and trappings, without a 
 word, and allow me to be youi guide to 
 the point where you will turn off to crosa 
 the mountains." 
 
 " But, Prairie Flower " 
 
 " Not a word not a single word such 
 are the conditions." 
 
 "But we have money, and " 
 
 " Surely you would not insult me," she 
 interrupted, " by offering \.o pay ? " 
 
 I saw by her manner that to say more 
 would only be to offend ; and seizing her 
 hand, I pressed it, with a hearty " God 
 bless you ! " while my eyes, in spite of 
 me, became dimmed with tears. Huntly 
 was too deeply affected to speak at all, and 
 therefore only pressed her hand in silence, 
 during which the features of Prairie Flow* 
 er grew very pale, and she was forced to 
 turn aside her head to conceal her emo 
 tion. We now comprehended all why 
 she had gone to Fort Laramie, and had 
 insisted on our return with her to the vil 
 lage and as we recalled her former kind 
 ness and generosity, and our own base 
 suspicions of her intention to slight us, the 
 result was to make both Huntly and my 
 self very sad. She had her revenge, we 
 felt, and a noble one it was too. 
 
 Mounting our horses, we again bade a 
 silent adieu to the Mysterious. Tribe, and, 
 in company with Prairie Flower, quitted 
 the village the second time, with more re 
 gret than the first, and took our way 
 southward, in a direction almost opposite 
 our previous one. 
 
 As we rode on, I noticed that our fair 
 guide became exceedingly abstracted, and 
 when she fancied herself unobserved, that 
 she frequently sighed. Poor girl ! she was 
 laboring to suppress feelings, which, like 
 the pent up fires of a volcano, were pre 
 paring to rend the tenement which confined 
 them ; and the very thought clouded my 
 path with melancholy. Huntly, too, was 
 abstracted and silent, so that little was aaiJ 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 n th<j wy ; and though everything above, 
 around and beneath, seemed conspiring to 
 make us cheerful, yet our thoughts only 
 rendered our hearts the more gloomy by 
 contrast. 
 
 A ride of less than three hours brought 
 us to a spot of the mountain that seemed 
 cf easy ascent, when Prairie Flower drew 
 in rein, and said with a sigh: 
 
 " Y\mr route lies yonder. Keep a little 
 to the south of west, and avoid traveling 
 after dark, or you may plunge over some 
 precipice and be dashed to pieces." 
 
 Huntly now appeared too agitated to 
 reply, and it was with difficulty I could 
 myself summon words to my aid. 
 
 "And so, dear Prairie Flower," I at 
 length articulated, "we are to part here ? " 
 
 " I fear we must." 
 
 " Shall we ever meet again ? " 
 
 " God only knows," she answered, trem 
 bling nervously, and dropping her eyes to 
 the ground." 
 
 " To attempt to express our gratitude to 
 you," I rejoined, "would be worse than 
 vnin ; words could not speak it ; the heart 
 alone can, and that you cannot see, only 
 through external expressions. Of one 
 thipg, fair being, rest assured : that in the 
 secret chambers of the souls of Francis 
 Leighton and Charles Huntly, is engraved 
 a name that will never be erased that of 
 the noble and generous Prairie Flower." 
 
 "Say r,o more I I beg of you!" 
 she gasped, waving her hand, and -then 
 placing it to her heart, as if to still its wild 
 th robbings. 
 
 "Prairie Flower," said Huntly, in a 
 tremulous voice, " if I part without a word, 
 you may think me ungrateful. It is not 
 so. Do not think so. I- 
 know this heart " 
 
 " No more no more ! 
 
 own trembled violently, and her lips re 
 fused a reply. The next moment, fearing 
 doubtless the effect of a longer trial of her 
 feelings and nerves, she turned her pony, 
 and signing me an adieu with her hand, 
 dashed rapidly away, and soon disappear 
 ed from our view in the deep forest. 
 
 Huntly sighed, but made no remark, and 
 silently and slowly we began our ascent of 
 the mountain. 
 
 That night we slept on the brow of the 
 Black Hills, at a point overlooking a larg 
 extent of the Laramie Plains. 
 
 CHAPTE R XXI. 
 
 IN SIGHT OF BROWN'S HOLE A DASH DOWH 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN APPEARANCE OF THB 
 
 PLACE THE OLD TRAPPER DISAPPOINT 
 MENT EXORBITANT PRICES A GAMBLING 
 
 QUARREL A MOUNTAINEER DUEZ HOR 
 RIBLE RESULT. 
 
 IT was a beautiful morning, not far from 
 the middle of September, that, ascending 
 a hill at the base of which we had encamp 
 ed the night previous, we overlooked a 
 charming green valley, completely shut in 
 by hills, through the very center of which, 
 like a long line of molten silver, we beheld 
 a bright stream taking its devious course. 
 Not the least agreeable and enchanting to 
 to us, was the sight of a few shanties, erect 
 ed along the margin of the river, and the 
 moving to and fro of several white human 
 beings. And not the less pleasant the sight, 
 that we had been some two weeks on a fa 
 tiguing journey of more than two hundred 
 miles, over mountains, plains, and rivers, 
 Could you without having seen a solitary individual 
 but ourselves. 
 
 cried the other. 
 " I oee I know I understand all. Too 
 
 much too much. Go ! go ! I Go, 
 
 and God's blessing attend you both ! I 
 
 She paused, and grasped the mane of 
 aer beast to save herself from falling. 
 
 " Then farewell," rejoined Huntly, ri 
 ding up to her side and extending his 
 hand. "You. will never be forgotten by 
 T,e ; and should we meet not again then 
 far-.-well for-ever." 
 
 Frairie Flower clasped his hand, but her than dangerous 
 
 The valley we now beheld was the point 
 of our present destination, a rendezvous 
 for the trappers, hunters, and traders cf 
 this part of the country, and known as 
 Brown's Hole. I have not described our 
 journey hither, after parting with Prairie 
 Flower, as but little of interest to the gen 
 eral reader occurred on the route, beyond 
 fatigue of travel, an occasional escape 
 from a fatal plunge over some precipice, 
 and one violent storm on the Medicine 
 Bow, which proved far more disagreeable 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 lien-, then, we were at last, in full view 
 of what seemed to us a paradise ; and a 
 simultaneous shout of delight, not only 
 told our feelings, but that our lungs were 
 still in good order. 
 
 " Well, Frank," exclaimed Huntly, with 
 great animation. " \ve ar$ now in a fair 
 way of coming in contact with somebody 
 besides Indians, and so let us down the 
 mountain with all the haste possible." 
 
 " Here goes, then, for a race," I cried ; 
 and urging my noble animal forward, I 
 dashed down the declivity, to the immi- 
 'nent danger of myself and horse, followed 
 by Huntly in the same reckless manner, 
 both shouting and wild with excitement. 
 
 Reaching the base of the mountain, we 
 galloped swiftly over the valley, and 
 brought up at last in the center of the en 
 campment, where curiosity soon surround 
 ed us with a medley of various nations and 
 complexions, all eager to learn who we 
 were and what our business. Here we 
 beheld Indians of different tribes, Span 
 iards, Mexicans, Englishmen, Frenchmen, 
 Creoles, Canadians, together with Anglo- 
 Americans from all parts of the United 
 States. Some of these were trappers, 
 hunters, traders, coureur des bois, and spec 
 ulators in general all congregated here 
 to carry on the traffic of buying and sell 
 ing this one to make money, and that one 
 to squander his hard earnings in gambling 
 and dissipation. Already had the trade of 
 the -season opened, although the greater 
 part of the trappers were not yet " in " 
 from the mountains with their furs, pelts, 
 and robes. 
 
 Outside the shanties, of which there 
 were some half a dozen belonging, the 
 principal one to the agent of the Hudson 
 Bay company, and the others to different 
 traders were built fires, around which 
 groups of bronzed mountaineers were 
 squatted, lost to all consciousness of the 
 outer world, in the exciting games of "eu 
 chre," "poker," "seven up," &c., <kc. 
 In one place was meat in the process of 
 jerking, in another skins stretched over 
 hoops for drying, while here and there was 
 a rude block of graining, together with 
 various other implements used in the fur 
 trade. 
 
 All these I noted with a hasty glance 
 as I drew in rein, and while the medley 
 
 crowd, before spoken of, was gathering 
 around us. I looked keenly at each as he 
 came up, but failed to recognize a single 
 face, much to my disappointment, as 1 had 
 been rather sanguine of here finding som 
 of my old acquaintances. 
 
 " Whar from ? " asked a tall, dark, ath 
 letic mountaineer eyeing us, as I fancied, 
 a little suspiciously. 
 
 " Over the mountains," I answered. 
 
 " Whar's your traps and beavers ? " 
 
 " We have none." 
 
 " Injins raise 'em ? " 
 
 " We never carried any." 
 
 "Traders, hey?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " Adventurers." 
 
 " That's a new callin, spose?" 
 
 " That is ours, at all events." 
 
 " Fine bosses you got thar." 
 
 " Very good, I believe." 
 
 " Going to stop ? " 
 
 " Think we shall." 
 
 " Well,, ground yourselves, put your 
 bosses to feed, and let's see how you look.'* 
 
 Upon this we dismounted, and while 
 doing so, Huntly observed : 
 
 "I say, friend, do you know most of the 
 trappers ? " 
 
 " Know a heap all I ever seed." 
 
 "Did you ever see one, then, called 
 Black George ? " 
 
 " D'ye ever see your own mother, stran 
 ger ? Didn't I used to trap with him fif 
 teen years ago ? and hain't I fit him out 
 of many a Injin snap ? Ef that ain't 
 knowin him, jest tell me what is." 
 
 "That is knowing him certainly," re 
 turned Huntly, smiling. "But have you 
 seen him of late ? " 
 
 " Not sence two year come calf time. 
 B'lieve he went over to the States, or some 
 sich outlandish place or other." 
 
 *' Then I have seen him since you." 
 
 "Whar d'ye leave him ? " inquired the 
 other with interest. 
 
 "In an Indian fight at Bitter Cotton- 
 wood." 
 
 " I'd sw'ar it. When Injins is about 
 he's always in, and a few at that, or I'm 
 no snakes. But what become on him? 
 Hope he did'nt go under ! ' x 
 
 " That is more than I can say, as my 
 friend here and I were carried off the field 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Cor dead, and have not been able to get 
 the particulars of the battle since." 
 
 " He did'nt die, I'll bet my life on that ! 
 Ef he did, it's the fust timelie ever knock 
 ed under to sich varmints." 
 
 "1 suppose, then, you havt seen none 
 who were in the tight ? " 
 
 " Never beared on't till now so reckon 
 I havn't." 
 
 "We fondly anticipated meeting some 
 <Sf them here." 
 
 " Its like you may yit ; for ef they're 
 about in this part o' creation, they're sure 
 to come. But turn out them critters, for 
 they looks hungry, and make yourselves 
 at home here. And while I thinks on't, 
 ef you've got any bacca, I'll trouble ye 
 for a chaw." 
 
 As 1 had some of the desired article, I 
 proffered it, and received his warmest 
 thanks in return. We now set about re 
 moving our saddles and other appendages, 
 and hoppling our horses ; while the crowd, 
 having stared at us to their satisfaction, 
 and found nothing particularly remarkable 
 in our persons or equipments, gradually 
 sauntered away, until we were left entirely 
 to ourselves. 
 
 Brown's Hole, at certain seasons of the 
 year, becomes a place of considerable note, 
 and presents many of the features of a 
 western settlement on a holiday. It was 
 interesting to us to note the avariciousness 
 of the traders, and the careless indifference 
 of the trappers, in disposing of their com 
 modities. Dropping in daily sometimes 
 singly and sometimes in parties from two 
 to ten, loaded with pelts and furs, in value 
 from one hundred to several thousand dol 
 lars the latter would barter them for 
 powder, lead, tobacco, alcohol, coffee, and 
 whatever else they fancied, receiving each 
 article at the most exhorbitant price, with 
 out uttering a word of complaint. I have 
 seen powder sold to the mountaineers at 
 the enormous sum of from three to four 
 dollars a pint ; alcohol at double this price, 
 the same measure ; coffee ditto ; tobacco 
 two and three dollars per plug, and every 
 thing else in proportion. Money here was 
 out of the question, as much as if it had 
 never been in existence furs, pelts, and 
 robes being substituted therefor. Here I 
 witnessed gambling on every scale, from 
 'he highest to the lowest from thousands 
 
 to units while every doubtful or mooted 
 point was sure to result in a bet before 
 being decided. It was nothing uncommon 
 to see a trapper " come in " with three or 
 four mules, and furs to the amount of sev 
 eral thousand dollars, and within a week 
 from his arrival, be without the value of a 
 baubee he could call his own furs, inules, 
 rifle, everything, sacrificed to his insatia 
 ble love of gambling. The mountaineer 
 over his cups is often quarrelsome, and an 
 angry dispute is almost certain to be set 
 tled in an honorable way (?) that is, rifles 
 at thirty yards when one or the other 
 (sometimes both) rarely fails to pay the 
 forfeit of his life. I had not been many 
 days in Brown's Hole, ere I witnessed a 
 tragedy of this kind, which even now, as I 
 recall it, makes my blood run cold with 
 horror. 
 
 The actors in this bloody scene were 
 two trappers of the better class, of intelli 
 gent and respectable appearance, neither 
 of whom had seen over thirty years, and 
 who, as a general thing, were of very sober 
 and quiet habits. They were from the 
 same part of the country had been boys 
 together had started together upon their 
 adventures and perilous occupation, and 
 were, moreover, sworn friends. 
 
 Some three days after our arrival, they 
 had made their appearance, well packed 
 with -pelts and furs, which they immedi 
 ately proceeded to dispose of to the traders, 
 As their trip had been an unusually profit 
 able one, they of course felt much elated, 
 and taking a drink together, sat down to a 
 friendly game of cards, to while away their 
 leisure hours. More strict in their habits 
 than most of their associates, they rarely 
 gambled, and then only for diversion. On 
 the occasion alluded to they at once began 
 playing for liquor, and having at length 
 drank more than their wont, proceeded to 
 stake different articles. As the game pro 
 gressed, they became more and more excit 
 ed, until at last their stakes run very high. 
 One was peculiarly fortunate, and of course 
 the luck of the other was exactly the re 
 verse, which so mortified and vexed him, 
 that he finally staked all his hard earnings 
 and lost. On this his companion took an 
 other drink, grew more and mure merry al 
 his own success, which he attributed to his 
 superior skill in handling tke cards, and 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 finally bantered the other to put up his 
 mules. No sooner said than done, and the 
 result was the same as be-fore. He was 
 now, to use the phrase of some of the by 
 standers, who had crowded around the two 
 to watch the game, " Han'somely cleaned 
 out." He had staked all, and lost all, and 
 was of course rendered not a little des 
 perate by the circumstance. 
 
 " Why don't you bet your body fixins ? " 
 cried one. 
 
 Like a drowning man at a straw, he 
 caught at the idea, and the next moment 
 he and his companion were deciding the 
 ownership of his costume by a game of 
 euehre. As might have been supposed, 
 the result was against him, and he was at 
 last completely beggared. 
 
 Seizing the half emptied can of liquor 
 by his side, lie drained it at a draught, and 
 in a tone of frenzy cried : 
 
 " Somebody lend me somethin! By ! 
 
 I must have my fixins back." 
 
 " Luck's agin ye now," answered one. 
 " Better wait till another time." 
 
 " No ! now now! by ! now ! " he 
 
 fairly screamed. " I'll show Jim yet, that 
 
 I'm his master at cards any day he 
 
 pleases. Who'll lend me somethin, I 
 eay ? " 
 
 None seemed inclined, however, to as 
 sist one so signally unfortunate ; and hav 
 ing waited a sufficient time, and finding 
 his appeal likely to prove fruitless, the dis 
 appointed man rose, and in a great passion 
 swore he would leave "such outlandish 
 diggins, and the heathenish set that in 
 habit them." 
 
 " Whar'll ye go ?" asked his companion, 
 in unusual glee. 
 
 " Whar no such scamps as you can 
 
 find me." 
 
 " But afore you leave, I spose you'll pay 
 your debts ? " retorted the other. 
 
 " What debts ? " 
 
 " Did'nt I jest win your body fixins ? " 
 
 "Well, do you claim them, too? I 
 thought as how you'd got enough without 
 them." 
 
 " ('"nini all my property wharever I can 
 find it," returned the other, more in jest 
 than earnest. "Of course, ef you're go in 
 to leave, so as I won't see you agin, I 
 can't afford to trust." 
 
 " You'ie a villain!" cried the loser, 
 
 turning fiercely ipon his ,'riend : " A 
 mean, dirty, villainous thief, and a liar ! " 
 
 "Come, come, Sam them's hard 
 words," replied the one cal'ed Jim, in a 
 mood of some displeasure. 
 
 "Well they're true, you know it, and 
 you darn't resent 'em." 
 
 "By !" cried the other, his eyet 
 
 flashing fire, and his whole frame trem 
 bling with a newly roused passion "I 
 dare and will resent it, at any time and 
 place you please." 
 
 "The time's now, then, and the place 
 hearabouts." 
 
 " And what the way ? " 
 
 " Rifles thirty paces." 
 
 "Enough, by !" and both proceeded 
 
 to get their rifles and arrange themselves 
 upon the ground a spot some forty yards 
 distant from the encampment whither 
 they were followed by a large crowd, all 
 eager to be witnesses of a not uncommon, 
 though what often proved a bloody scene, 
 as was the case in the present instance. 
 
 Selecting a level spot, the parties in 
 question placed themselves back to back, 
 and having examined their rifles, each 
 marched forward fifteen paces, and wheel 
 ed face to his antagonist. Sam then called 
 out: 
 
 "All ready?" 
 
 " Ready," w^s the reply. 
 
 " Somebody give the word, then," re 
 turned the first speaker, and at the same 
 instant both rifles were brought to the 
 faces of the antagonists. 
 
 For a moment a breathless silence suc 
 ceeded, which was broken by the distinct, 
 but ominous word, 
 
 " Fire ! " 
 
 Scarcely was it uttered, when crack 
 went both rifles at once ; and bounding 
 up from the earth, with a yell of pain, Sam 
 fell back a corpse, pierced through the 
 brain by the bullet of his friend. Jim 
 was unharmed, though the ball of the 
 other had passed through his hat and 
 grazed the top of his head. Dropping his 
 rifle, with a look of horror that haunts na 
 still, he darted forward, and was the first 
 to reach the side of the dead. Bending 
 down, he raised the body in his arms, and 
 wiping the blood from its face with his 
 hands, called out, in the most endearing 
 and piteous tones: 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 " Sam ! Sam ! look up ! speak to me ! 
 it's Jim your friend. I did not go to 
 do it. I was mad, or drunk. Sam ! Sam ! 
 speak to me ! for Heaven's sake speak, 
 if only once, and say you forgive mf ! 
 Sam, why don't you speak ? Oh ! I shall 
 go distracted ! My brain seems on fire! 
 You know, dear Sam, I would not murder 
 you you my friend my dearly loved 
 friend the playmate of my childhood! 
 Oh. speak ! speak ! speak ! God ! speak, 
 Sam, if only once ! It was the cursed 
 liquor that did it. Oh speak ! if only to 
 curse me f God ! God ! he don't 
 answer me ! " cried the wretched man, 
 turning an anguished, imploring look upon 
 the spectators, as if they could give him ' 
 aid, and then wildly straining the dead 
 man to his heart. 
 
 " He'll never speak agin," said one. 
 
 " Oh no ! do not say that ! " shrieked 
 die duellist, " Do not say that ! or I shall 
 go mad. I feel it here here in my 
 head in my brain. I killed him, did I ? 
 I killed him murdered him the only 
 friend I had on earth ? And you all stood 
 and saw me do it. Yes, I murdered him. 
 See ! see ! thar's blood his blood I did 
 it -ha, ha, ha ! " and he ended with a 
 maniacal* laugh, threw himself upon the 
 ground, and hugged the corpse of his 
 friend to his heart. 
 
 " Poor feller ! " said one, " he'd better 
 be taken into one o' the lodges, for he 
 looks like he'd lost his sense." 
 
 " No, no, no ! you shan't you shan't 
 part us ! " cried the frenzied man, draw 
 ing his deai companion closer to his heart, 
 a.s some of the party sought to carry out 
 the suggestion just made. " No, no ! you 
 shan't part us never, never, never ! This 
 is Sam, this is Sam Murdoch he's my 
 friend and we're goin a long journey to 
 gether ain't we Sam ? We'll never part 
 agin will we Sam ? Never ! never ! 0, 
 never! ha, ha, ha! Thar! thar ! he 
 continued, dropping the body, rising to a 
 sitting posture, and staring wildly at some 
 imaginary object: " I see, Sam I see! 
 You're in great danger. That rock's 
 about to fall. But hang on, Sam hang 
 on to that root! Don't let go! Jim's 
 a-comin. God ! who j>ut that chasm 
 thar that mountain gorge to separate 
 U* ? I can't git across. Help ! help 1 or 
 
 Sam will die. Yes, he's fallin now ! Tharl 
 thar ! he's goin down down down ' 
 But heyar's what'll meet you, Sam. 
 Comin ! comin ! " and whipping out hi 
 knife as he said this, before any one \vas 
 aware what he was about, or had time to 
 prevent him, he plunged it into his heart, 
 and gasping the word " comin," rolled 
 over upon the earth and expired beside 
 his friend. 
 
 I had been a silent witness of the whole 
 bloody, terrible scene but my feelings 
 can neither be imagined nor described. 
 Speechless with horror, I stood and gazed 
 like one in a nightmare, without the power 
 to move, and was only roused from my 
 painful revery by Huntly, who, tapping me 
 on the shoulder, said : 
 
 " Come away, Frank come away ! " 
 
 Complying with his request, I turned, 
 and together we quitted the ground, both 
 too deeply affected and horrified at what 
 we had seen to make a single comment. 
 
 The mountaineers, with whom such and 
 similar scenes were of common occurrence, 
 proceeded to deposit the dead in a rude 
 grave .near the spot where they had fallen. 
 They then returned to the encampment, to 
 take a drink to their memories, coolly talk 
 over the " sad mishap," as they termed it, 
 and again to engage in their usual routine 
 of amusement or occupation. In a week 
 the whole affair was forgotten, or mention 
 ed only to some new comer as having hap 
 pened " some time ago." 
 
 Upon the mind of myself and friend, it 
 produced an impression never to be erased ; 
 and for a long time, apparitions of the un 
 fortunate trappers haunted my waking 
 senses by day, and my dreams by night. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 RESOLVE TO DEPART DISCOURAGING OBSER 
 VATIONS FAIL TO GBT A GUIDE SET OUT 
 
 UL^'TAH FORT OUR JOURNEY TO UTAH 
 
 LAKE KESOLVE TO CROSS THE GREAT IN 
 TERIOR BASIN FIRST DAY'S PROGRESS 
 
 CAMP KILL A RABBIT SUDDEN ATTAC1 
 
 FROM THE DIGGERS REPULSE AND FORTU 
 NATE ESCAPE. 
 
 WE had been a month in Brown's Hole, 
 without having seen or heard anything 
 
 
94 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 concerning our old acquaintances during 
 which time another mountaineer had been 
 the victim of a quarrel, though his death 
 we did not. witness when I proposed to 
 Hu'itly to set forward at once, and leave a 
 place so little adapted to our tastes and 
 fee! in ;;. 
 
 '' But where do you propose going, 
 Frank ? " inquired my friend. 
 
 " To California." 
 
 " But can we find the way by our 
 selves " 
 
 " We shall hardly find a place less to 
 our liking than this, at all events," I re 
 plied. 
 
 " But we are safe here, Frank." 
 
 " I presume Charles Huntly does not 
 fear danger, or he would not have ventured 
 westward at all." 
 
 " Enough, Frank ! Say no more ! I am 
 your man. But when shall we start?" 
 
 " What say you for to-morrow morn 
 ing ?" 
 
 " Agreed. But perhaps we can hire a 
 guide ? " 
 
 "We will try," I rejoined. 
 
 But our trial proved fruitless. No guide 
 coxilcl be found, whose love of money would 
 tempt him, at this season of the year, to 
 undertake the conducting of us to Califor 
 nia : while on every hand we were assailed 
 by the mountaineers, with the most start 
 ling accounts of dangers from Indians, 
 from snows, from floods, from storms, and 
 from starvation. 
 
 "You never can fetch through," said 
 one. " It's a fixed impossibility." 
 
 " You're fools ef you undertake it," join 
 ed in another. 
 
 " It's like jumpin on to rocks down a 
 three hundred foot precipice, and spectin 
 to git off without no bones broke," rejoin 
 ed a third. 
 
 " Ef you know what's safe, you'll jest 
 keep your eyes skinned, and not leave 
 these here diggins," added a fourth. 
 
 But these remarks, instead of discour 
 aging us, produced exactly the opposite ef 
 fect, and roused our ambition to encounter 
 the formidable dangers of which, all were 
 BO tager to warn us. To Huntl) and my 
 self, there appeared something bold and 
 inanly in attempting what all seemed to 
 dread ; and to each and all I accordingly 
 replied : 
 
 " It is useless, gentlemen, trying to dis 
 courage us. We have tlecided on going, 
 and go we shall at all hazards." 
 
 " All I've got to say, then, is, that ii'll 
 be the last goin you'll do in this world," 
 rejoined the friend of Black George, who 
 seemed uncommonly loth to part with us. 
 
 The next morning rose clear and cold 
 for the air in this part of the coun ry had 
 become quite frosty and agreeably to our 
 resolve of the preceding day, we equipped 
 ourselves and horses once more, and bid 
 ding our mountaineer friends adieu, set 
 forward in fine spirits shaping our course, 
 to the best of our judgment, so as to strike 
 the southern range of the Bear River 
 Mountains, in the vicinity of the Utah 
 Lake, which connects with the Great Salt 
 Lake on the north. 
 
 To give our progress in -detail, would 
 only be to describe a succession of scenes, 
 incidents, and perils, similar to those al 
 ready set before the reader, and take up 
 time and space which the necessity of the 
 case requires me to use for a more imporl- 
 ant purpose. I shall, therefore, content 
 myself with sketching some of the mosit 
 prominent and startling features of our 
 route a route sufficiently full of perils, as 
 we found to our cost, to put to ilie test the 
 temerity and try the iron constitution of 
 the boldest and most hardy adventurer. 
 
 While in Brown's Hole, we had succeed 
 ed in purchasing of one of the traders, 'it 
 i a high price, a map and compass, whu h. 
 he had designed especially for his own 
 ! use, and similar to those we had provided 
 ourselves with on starting, but which, to 
 gether with many other valuable articles, 
 had been left in our possible sacks at Fort 
 Laramie. 
 
 On our compass and map we now placed 
 our whole dependence, as our only guide 
 over a vast region of unexplored country 
 or explored only by a few traders, trap 
 pers, and Indians Fremont's Celebrated 
 expedition, which created at the time such 
 universal interest throughout the United 
 Suites, not being made till some three or 
 four years subsequent to the date of which 
 I am writing. And here, en }>Qs*tira*\ 
 would remark, that in determining our 
 course for California, we had particular 
 reference to the southern portion of it ; for 
 as every reader knows, who is acquainted 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 mtfc the geography of the country, or who 
 das taken the trouble to trace our route 
 on the map we were already within the 
 northeastern limits prescribed to this 
 mighty territory. 
 
 Lea'vingthe delightful valley of Brown's 
 Hole, we dashed swiftly onward in a south 
 westerly direction, and our horses being 
 in fine traveling order, we were enabled 
 to pass a long stretch of beautiful country, 
 and camp, at close of day, on the banks 
 of a stream known as Ashley's Fork. 
 Crossing this the next morning, we contin 
 ued on the same course as the day previ 
 ous, and night found us safely lodged in 
 the Uintah Fort a solitary trading post in 
 the wilderness which was then garrisoned 
 by Spaniards and Canadians, with a sprink 
 ling of several other nations, together with 
 Indian women, wives of the traders and 
 hunters, who comprised the whole female 
 department. 
 
 Here we sought to procure a guide, but 
 with the same success as before not one 
 caring to risk his life by an experiment so 
 fool-hardy, as undertaking a journey of 
 many hundred miles, with a force so 
 small, over a pathless region of territory, 
 and either peopled not at all, or by hostile 
 tribes of savages. 
 
 The accounts we received from all quar 
 ters of the dangers before us, were cer 
 tainly enough to have intimidated and 
 changed the designs of any less venture 
 some than we, and less firmly tixed in a 
 foolish determination to push to the end 
 what at best could only be termed an idle, 
 boyish freak. But as I said before, our 
 nmbkion WAS roused to perform what all 
 wi-re afraid to dare, and we pressed on 
 ward, as reckless of consequences as though 
 we knew our lives specially guaranteed to 
 as, for a term of years beyond the pre 
 sent, by a Power from on high. I have 
 often since looked back upon this period, 
 and shuddered at the thought of what we 
 then dared ; and I can now only account 
 for our temerity our indifference to the 
 warnings we received as resulting from a 
 kind of monomania. 
 
 A travel of some two or three days, 
 brought us to a stream called the Spanish 
 Fork ; and pushing down this, through a 
 wild gorge in the Wahsatch Mountains, 
 we encamped the day folk wing on its 
 
 broad, fertile bottoms, near its junction 
 with, and in full view of the Utah Lake. 
 We were now in the country of the Utalis, 
 a tribe of Indians particularly hostile to 
 small parties of whites, and the utmost 
 caution was necessary to avoid falling into 
 their clutches. On either hand, walling 
 the valley on the right and left, rose wild, 
 rugged, frowning cliffs, and peaks of 
 mountains, lifting their heads far heaven 
 ward, covered with eternal snows. 
 
 At this particular spot was good grazing 
 for our horses ; but judging by the appear 
 ance of the country around us, and tne in 
 formation we had received from the moun 
 taineers, we were about to enter a sterile 
 region, with little or no vegetation in 
 many places devoid of water and game 
 (our main dependence for subsistence) 
 peopled, if at all, the Diggers only an 
 animal of the human species the very lowest 
 in the scale of intellect in fact scarcely 
 removed from the brute creation who 
 subsist upon what few roots, lizards and 
 reptiles they can gather from the moun 
 tains sometimes in small parties of three 
 and four, and sometimes in numbers and 
 who, being perfect cannibals in their habits, 
 would not fail to destroy us if possible, 
 were it for nothing else than to feast upon 
 our carcasses. Take into consideration, 
 too, our education our luxurious habits 
 through life our inability to contend with 
 numbers that the only benefit we could 
 derive from our expedition would be in 
 satisfying our boyish love of adventure 
 and I think even the most reckless will be 
 free to pronounce our undertaking fool 
 hardy in the extreme. 
 
 So far, we had been very fortunate in 
 escaping the savages ; but from all appear 
 ances we could not do so much longer ; 
 and what would be the result of our meet 
 ing, God only knew. We were now on 
 the borders of the Great Interior Basin, a 
 region of country containing thousands on 
 thousands of miles, never yet explored by 
 a white man, perhaps by no living being! 
 Should we mafee the attempt to cross it 1 
 We could but lose our lives at the worst, 
 and we might perchance succeed, and find 
 a nearer route to Western or Southern 
 California than the one heretofore travel 
 ed. There was something inspiring in the 
 thought ; and the matter was discussed m 
 
96 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 our lone camp, in the dead hours of night, 
 with no little animation. 
 
 " What say you, Frank ? " cried Huntly 
 the next morning, rousing me from a sweet 
 dream of home. "Westward or south 
 ward?" 
 
 "Why," I replied, "there is danger in 
 either choice so choose for yourself." 
 
 "Well, I am for exploring this region 
 left blank on the map." 
 
 " Then we will go, live or die," I re 
 joined ; " for I long myself to behold 
 what has never as yet been seen by one 
 of my race." 
 
 The matter thus decided, we mounted 
 our horses, and keeping to the south of 
 the Utah Lake, crossed a small stream, and 
 about noon came to a halt on the brow of 
 a high hill, forming a portion of the Wah- 
 satch range. Below us, facing the west, 
 we beheld a barren tract of land, with here 
 and there a few green spots, and an oc 
 casional stream sparkling in the bright 
 sunlight, which led us to the inference that 
 there might be oases, at intervals of a 
 day's ride, across the whole Great Basin, 
 to the foot of the Sierra Nevada or Snowy 
 Range, which divides it from the pleasant 
 valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin. 
 
 It was a delightful day, and everything 
 before us, even the most sterile spots, 
 looked enchanting in the soft mellow light. 
 Descending the mountain with not a little 
 difficulty, we set forward across the plain, 
 shaping our course to the nearest point 
 likely to afford us a good encampment. 
 But the distance was much farther than 
 we had anticipated, when viewing it from 
 the mountain ; and although we urged our 
 beasts onward as much as they could bear, 
 night closed around us long ere we reached 
 it. Reach it we did at last ; and heartily 
 fatigued with our day's work, we hoppled 
 our horses, and without kindling a fire, or 
 eating a morsel of food, rolled ourselves in 
 our robes of buffalo, and fell asleep. 
 
 The sun of the succeeding morning, 
 shining brightly in our faces, awoke us ; 
 and springing to our feet, w\j gazed around 
 with mingled sensations of awe and delight. 
 Doubtless we felt, in a small degree, the 
 emotions excited in the breast of the ad 
 venturer, when for the first time he finds 
 himself on ground which he fancies has 
 Miter yet been trod nor seen by a stranger. 
 
 We had entered a country now, which th 
 most daring had feared or failed to explore, 
 and we felt a noble pride in tne thought 
 that we should be the first to lay before 
 the world its mysteries. 
 
 The point where we had encamped, was 
 green and fertile, abounding with what is 
 termed buffalo grass, with trees unlike any 
 I had before seen, and with wild flowers 
 innumerable. Like an island from the 
 ocean, it rose above the desert around it, 
 covering an area of a mile in circumfer 
 ence, and was watered by several bright 
 springs of delightful beverage. 
 
 Turning our gaze to the eastward, we 
 beheld the snowy peaks of the Wahsatch 
 Mountains, which we had left behind us, 
 looming up in grandeur ; while, to the 
 westward, nothing was visible but an un 
 broken, barren, pathless desert. Here 
 was certainly a prospect anything but 
 charming yet not for a moment did we 
 waver in our determination to press onward. 
 
 It will be remembered, that on leaving 
 the village of the Mysterious Nation, Prai 
 rie Flower had taken care to furnish us a 
 good supply of jerk ; and this, by killing 
 more or less game on our route, we had 
 been enabled to retain in our possession, 
 to be eaten only in cases of extreme ne 
 cessity ; consequently we did not fear suf 
 fering for food, so much as for water ; and 
 even the latter we were sanguine of find 
 ing, ere anything serious should occur. 
 The only matter that troubled us sorely, 
 was the fear our noble animals would not 
 be as fortunate as we, and that starvation 
 might compel them to leave their bones in 
 the wilderness, and thereby oblige us to 
 pursue our journey on foot an event, as 
 the reader will perceive, far more probable 
 than agreeable. 
 
 As we had eaten nothing the previous 
 night, we now felt our appetites much 
 sharpened thereby, and looking around in 
 the hope of discovering game, my eye 
 chanced upon a rabbit. The next moment 
 the sharp crack of my rifle broke upon 
 the solitude, and the little fellow lay deau 
 in his tracks. 
 
 Hastily dressing him and kindling a tire, 
 we were already in the act of toasting the 
 meat, when whiz-z-z came a dozen arrows 
 through the nir, some of them actually 
 penetrating our garments without wounding 
 
ADVENTJRES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 is. ac<f others burying themselves in the 
 yround at our feet. Springing up with 
 t cry of alarm, we grasped our rifles, 
 dioiigh only one was loaded, and turned to 
 took for the enemy. Upon a steep bluff, 
 seme thirty paces behind us, we beheld 
 ome fifteen or twenty small, dirty, miser 
 able looking savages, with their bows and 
 arrows in their hands, already in the act 
 of giving us another volley. 
 
 " By heavens ! Frank," cried Huntly, 
 " it is all over with us now." 
 
 " Never say die to such dirty curmud 
 geons as them," I rejoined, more vexed 
 than alarmed. " Quick ! Charley dodge 
 behind this tree ! and while I load, be 
 sure you bring one of them to his last ac 
 count ! " 
 
 While speaking I ran, followed by my 
 friend, and scarcely had we gained shelter, 
 when whiz-z-z came another flight of 
 airows, some of them actually piercing the 
 tree behind which we stood. 
 
 " Quick ! Charley they are looking to 
 ward our horses ! (These were feeding 
 within ten paces of us.) There ! they are 
 on the point of shooting them. Take the 
 leader ! For heaven's sake don't miss 
 of we are lost! " 
 
 As I spoke, the rifle of my .friend belch 
 ed forth its deadly contents, and the fore 
 most of our foes, who was just on the 
 point of discharging an arrow at one of 
 the horses, shot it at random, and, with a 
 loud yell, fell headlong down the bluff, 
 and was dashed to pieces on the rocks 
 below. Several others had their bows 
 drawn, but on the fall of their companion, 
 they also fired at random, and approach 
 ing the bluff, gazed down upon his man 
 gled remains, uttering frantic yells of rage 
 and grief. 
 
 By this time my own rifle was loaded, 
 and taking a hasty aim, I tumbled a sec 
 ond after the lirst. The savages were now 
 alarmed in earnest, and retreating several 
 paces, just made their faces visible, appa 
 rently undecided whether to retreat or 
 attack us in a body. This was an impor 
 tant moment; but fortunately for us, the 
 rille of Huntly was now again loaded, and 
 taking a more careful sight than before, he 
 l<xlgfd the tall in the head of a third. 
 This created a terrible panic among our 
 enemies, who fled precipitately. 
 
 Now was our chance, and perhaps our 
 only chance, to escape ; for we knew no 
 thing of the number of our foe, nor nt 
 what moment he might return with an 
 overwhelming force ; and calling to Hunt 
 ly, I darted to my horse and cut the teth 
 er-rope with my knife ; and so rapidly did 
 both of us work, that in three minutes we 
 were in our saddles and galloping away. 
 
 As we turned the southern point of thig 
 desert island, we heard an ominous suc 
 cession of yells, and some forty rods away 
 to the right, beheld a band of at least 
 fifty Indians, of both sexes, together with 
 some twenty miserable huts. This was 
 evidently their village, and, from what we 
 could judge, they were preparing to renew 
 the attack, as we had feared, when our ap 
 pearance apprised them of our escape. 
 
 To the best of our judgment, tney were 
 Diggers, and on this oasis dragged out 
 their miserable existence. Being divided 
 from us by a ridge, neither party had been 
 aware of the proximity of the other, until 
 the discharge of my rifle at the rabbit. 
 This it appears had alarmed them, and ex 
 cited an immediate attack, from the fatal 
 consequences of which kind Heaven had 
 so providentially delivered us. We thought 
 seriously of giving them a parting salute- 
 particularly as they seemed to grieve so 
 much for our departure but on second 
 consideration, concluded we would reserve 
 our powder and ball, not knowing how ne 
 cessary to self-preservation these might yet 
 become ; and so taking off our hats, and 
 waving them a kind farewell, we dashed 
 away over the plain. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A BARREN DESERT NO WATER ALARMIWQ 
 
 CONDITION OF OUR HORSES CAMP A LIT 
 TLE REFRESHED A SANDY DESERT IN 
 CREASED SUFFERINGS DEATH OF MT 
 
 FRIEND'S HORSE A DRAUGHT OF BLOOD 
 
 CONSULTATION RESOLVE TO PRESS OH 
 
 DEATH OF MY OWN HORSE AFOOT A 
 
 TERRIBLE NIGHT HOPE IN SIGHT OF AS 
 
 OASIS GRATITUDE ALMOST SUPERHU 
 
 MAN EXERTIONS A STREAM 
 
 EXHAUSTION RELIEF. 
 
 INSANITY 
 
 OUR progress through the day was ore? 
 an arid waste of calcareous formation, 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 Devoid of all vegetation, with the exception 
 of a few tall, stiff, wire-like weeds, that 
 grew here and there, where the soil ap 
 peared a little moist and loomy. Deep : 
 ravines, or cracks in the earth, in some ! 
 places to the depth of it might be a thou 
 sand feet, cut across the ground in every 
 direction, and rendered everything like ! 
 speed, or traveling after night, out of the 
 question. These gullies, when very nar 
 row, we forced our horses to leap but 
 frequently had to ride around them on 
 account of which our progress westward 
 was slow and tedious. The sun here 
 seemed at least twenty degrees warmer 
 than on the highlands we had left behind 
 us; and not having come to any water, 
 we began about mid-day to feel the op 
 pression of a burning thirst, while our 
 well fed and well watered animals of the 
 morning, showed alarming signs of expe 
 riencing the same sensation, by lolling 
 their tongues, occasionally smelling the 
 earth, and snuffing the dry air. Oh ! 
 what would we not have given, even then, 
 for a bucket of water, cool from some deep 
 well! 
 
 We found no place to noon, and conse 
 quently were forced to push forward, in 
 the-' nope of reaching an oasis for our 
 night's encampment. 
 
 On, on we went, our thirst increasing 
 to a "Teat decree, while the sun rolled 
 
 O O ' 
 
 slowly down toward the west, and yet no 
 thing around and before us but this same 
 dull, arid waste. We now began to ex 
 perience the effects of our rashness, and, 
 if truth must be told, to secretly wish our 
 selves safely clear of our undertaking, 
 though neither breathed a word to the 
 other of the thoughts passing in his mind. 
 Our horses, too, seemed very much fa 
 tigued, and required considerable spurring 
 to hasten them forward. 
 
 The sun had now sunk within an hour 
 of the horizon, and yet the same cheerless 
 prospect lay before us. We looked back, 
 and far in the distance, like a mole-hill, 
 could faintly trace the outline of the oasis 
 of our last encampment ; while beyond, 
 the snowy peaks of the Wahsatch glisten 
 ed in the sunbeams. Advancing a couple 
 of miles, we found ourselves compelled to 
 camp for the night, without water, and 
 with nothing for our horses to eat; and 
 
 the fact of this was anything but cht 
 ing. 
 
 "What is to be done ? " asked Huntly. 
 " We can not long exist without water, and 
 our poor beasts are already suffering to an 
 alarming degree, and will not be likely to 
 hold out more than one day more at the 
 most." 
 
 " Well, I fancy by that time we shall 
 come to a spot similar to the one behind us.'* 
 
 " Then you think we had better go for 
 ward ?" 
 
 " I dislike the idea of turning back. 
 Besides, we should probably fall into the 
 hands of the savages, and death here looks 
 full as tempting as there." 
 
 "But our horses, Frank poor beasts ! 
 see how they suffer." 
 
 " I know it, and would to Heaven I could 
 relieve them ! But we cannot even help 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Do you think they can go through an 
 other day like this ?" 
 
 " I am xinable to say." 
 
 " Oh ! it would be awful to be put afocil 
 in this deseit ! " 
 
 " By no means n, pleasant matter, I must 
 own. Bui, ray friend, this is no time to 
 got alanned. We have set out, after beiu^ 
 duly warned, <ind must therefore make tl.e 
 most of the circ-awstances we have broug'rtt 
 upon ourselves. If our horses die, we musl 
 use their blood to quench our thirst." 
 
 " Heavens ! Frank," exclaimed Huntly, 
 startled with a new idea, " what if another 
 day's travel like this should still leave us 
 in the bare desert, with no haven in sight? " 
 
 " Why, I should consider our case near 
 ly hopeless ; but we will trust to having 
 better fortune." 
 
 We now ate some of our meat with bul 
 little relish, and throwing ourselves upon 
 the earth, at length fell into a kind of fe 
 verish slumber. A heavy dew falling du 
 ring the night, refreshed us not a little. 
 At the first streak of daylight, we were 
 again in our saddles, and found, much to 
 our joy, that although our poor bcavs had 
 eaten not a morsel since die morning pre 
 vious, they, like ourselves, were consider 
 ably invigorated by a night of repose. Set 
 ting forward again, as cheerfully as tin 
 circumstances would permit, we traveled 
 some two or three hours at a fast amble; 
 but now the sun bey-an co be felt rathe/ 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 ensibly, and our beasts to flag and droop, ' 
 while o'ur sensations of thirst seemed in 
 creased ten-fold. If this was the case in 
 the morning, what would be the result ere 
 another night? We shuddered at the 
 thought. 
 
 About noon, tne appearance of the 
 ground began to change for the worse, 
 which, in spite of ourselves, was produc 
 tive of no little alarm. Gradually it be 
 came more and more sandy, and an hour's 
 further progress brought us to a desert 
 more barren than ever, where not a living 
 thiiv, vegetable or animal, could be seen, 
 over a dreary expanse, that, for all we 
 knew, might be hundreds of miles in ex 
 tent. 
 
 To add to the horrors of our situation, 
 our horses were evidently on the point of 
 giving out for as they buried their feet 
 in the white, hot sand, they occasionally 
 floundered, and reeled, and seemed in 
 clined to lie down while our own throats, 
 lips, and tongues began to swell, and the 
 skin of our faces and hands to blister and 
 crack. I recalled to mind the accounts I 
 had read of bones being found in the great 
 Arabian deserts, and I fancied that many 
 years hence, some more fortunate traveler 
 mfght so discover ours. 
 
 Cheering each other as well as we could, 
 we kept on for another hour, when the 
 horse of Huntly reeled, dropped upon his 
 knees, and fell over upon his side. 
 
 " Oh God !" cried my friend in despair, 
 " we are lost we are lost ! a nd such a 
 death !" 
 
 " Our last hope is here," I rejoined, dis 
 mounting and plunging my knife into the 
 dying beast ; and as the warm blood spout 
 ed forth, we placed our parched lips to it, 
 and drank with a greediness we had never 
 felt nor displayed for anything before. 
 
 This gave us no little relief for the time, 
 and added vigor to our already drooping 
 and weakened frames. But what could it 
 avail us ? It might relieve us now might 
 prolong our lives a few hours only to go 
 through the same terrible tortures and find 
 death at last. Unless we could reach a 
 spring by another day's travel, or come in 
 sight of one, our case was certainly hope 
 less ; and to carry us forward, we now had 
 nothing to depend on but. our own limbs 
 and strength, while our path must be over 
 
 a bed of hot, loose sand, where every step 
 would be buried ankle deep. 
 
 " Well, Frank," sighed Huntly at length, 
 " what are we to do now ? I suppose we 
 may as well die here as elsewhere." 
 
 " No ! not here, my friend ; we will 
 make one trial more at least." 
 
 "And have we any prospect, think you, 
 of saving our lives of seeing another 
 green spot ? " 
 
 " Why, you remember when on the 
 Wahsatch, we saw some hills away in the 
 distance ; and unless it was an optical 
 illusion, I have a faint hope of being able 
 to reach them before this time to-morrow." 
 
 " God grant it, my friend ! for though 
 I fear not death more than another, there 
 is something horrible in the thought of 
 leaving my bones here in the wilderness." 
 
 "Well, well, cheer up, Huntly! and 
 trust in Providence to carry us safely 
 through." 
 
 A farther consultation resulted in the 
 decision to await the night, and if my horse 
 proved able to proceed, to let him carry our 
 sacks, rifles, <fec., while we were to keep 
 him company on foot. 
 
 By the time the sun had fairly set, we 
 resumed our journey ; but after a la] " ri- 
 ous travel of half a mile, my horse gaTv' 
 out. Taking from him a portion of the 
 jerked meat, our rifles, and such small ar 
 ticles as we could not well do without, we 
 left him to his fate, with many a sigh of 
 regret. 
 
 It was a clear, starlight night, and the 
 air just cool enough to be comfortable; 
 but unlike the preceding one, we no longer 
 had the refreshing dew to moisten our bo 
 dies and renew our strength. Still we suc 
 ceeded better than I had anticipated, and, 
 by exertions almost superhuman, placed 
 many a long mile between us and our 
 starting point, ere the first crimson streak 
 in the east told that day was again dawn 
 ing. To add hope to our drooping spirits, 
 we now found the ground becoming more 
 and more solid, and ere the sun pec-red over 
 the mountains which were almost lost to 
 view in the distance, we set our feet once 
 more upon hard earth, similar in appear 
 ance to that we had quitted for the sands. 
 Struggling on a mile or two farther, we 
 ascended a slight elevation, and, joy inex 
 pressible ! beheld far away before us a 
 
100 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR 
 
 rid,ge of green hills. All the extravagant, 
 unspeakable delight of the poor, ship 
 wrecked manner, who has been for days 
 tossed about by the angry elements.without 
 food to save him from starvation, without 
 water to slake his consuming thirst, on 
 beholding, in the last agonies of despair, 
 the green hills of his native land suddenly 
 loom up before him all his unspeakable 
 emotions, I say, were ours ; and silently 
 dropping upon our knees, our hearts spoke 
 the gratitude to our All- wise Preserver 
 which our tongues were unable to utter. 
 True, the famished, worn - out mariner 
 might die in sight of land and so might 
 we in view of our haven of rest yet the 
 bare hope of reaching it alive, gave ener 
 gy to our sinking spirits, and strength to 
 our failing limbs. 
 
 Again we pressed forward, our now 
 swollen and bloodshot eyes tixed eagerly 
 upon the desired spot, which, like an ignis- 
 fatuus, seemed only to recede to our ad 
 vance. The sun, too, gradually rolling 
 higher and higher, till he reached the ze 
 nith of his glory, and began to descend to 
 ward the west, poured .down his scorching 
 rays (for they seemed scorching to us in 
 the desert), dried up, as it were, the very 
 marrow of our bones, blistered our parch 
 ed and feverish skins, and caused our 
 limbs to swell, till every step became one 
 of pain almost unbearable. All our pre 
 vious sufferings were as nothing, seeming 
 ly, compared to our present ; and when 
 vfe reached the bank of a stream, which 
 wound around the base of the hills, the 
 sun had already hid himself for the day, 
 and we sunk down completely exhausted ! 
 
 Huntly, for the last two or three miles, 
 had shown symptoms of confirmed insani 
 ty had often raved about home, which he 
 declared was just below him in a pool of 
 clear water, which he, being chained to a 
 rock, was not permitted to reach, although 
 dying of thirst and had often turned to 
 me, with much the look of a ravenous 
 beast about to spring upon his prey so 
 that, with the greatest difficulty, in my then 
 
 weak state, I had succeeded in getting 
 him to the stream, where, as I said before, 
 we both sunk down in a state of exhaus 
 tion. Had the stream been a mile, or 
 even half a mile farther oft', we -just both 
 have perished in sight of that water which 
 alone could save us. Weak and worn out 
 as I was, I still, thank God ! had my 
 senses though sometimes I fancied they 
 were beginning to wander and I knew 
 that for either to indulge his appetite free 
 ly, would be certain to produce death. 
 
 As my friend seemed too feeble to move, 
 and as I was in a little better condition 
 though now unable to walk I 'crawled 
 over the ground to the stream, which was 
 not deep, and rolled into it, restraining 
 myself even then from tasting a drop, un 
 til my body was thoroughly soaked, and I 
 felt considerably revived. After a bath of 
 some five minutes, I took a few draughts 
 of the sparkling element, and never in my 
 life experienced such a powerful and speedy 
 change for the better. Almost instantly I 
 felt the life- renewing blood darting through 
 my veins, and I came out of the water, as 
 it were another being. 
 
 Hastening to my friend, I partially raised 
 him in my arms, and dragging him to the 
 stream, tumbled him in, taking care to keep 
 a firm hold. In a few minutes I had the 
 satisfaction of seeing him slowly revive. 
 Then scooping up the water with my hand, 
 I placed it to his lips, which he drank 
 eagerly. Gradually his strength and con 
 sciousness returned, and with feelings which 
 none but one in my situation can ever know, 
 I at length heard him exclaim 
 
 " Water ! water ! Thank God ! Frank, 
 we are saved ! " and falling upon the breast 
 of each other, overcome with emotions of 
 joy, our tears of gratitude were borne a>vaj 
 upon the river which laved our feet 
 
 Eating sparingly, ever moistening our 
 food, we at last found our farmer strength 
 much restored ; and fording the stream, we 
 threw ourselves upon the grassy earth, and 
 tlept touvdly that night iyx>a Us western 
 bank. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 101 
 
 CH VPTER XXIV. 
 
 CFFECTS OF OUR JOURNEY THE MYSTERY 
 
 SOLVED EXPLORATION- GAME A SUP 
 POSED DISCOVERY OF GOLD TRAVELS RE 
 SUMED IN SIGHT OF THE SIERRA NEVADA 
 
 INDIANS REACH THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 ASCENT TEN THOUSAND FEET ABOVE THE 
 
 SEA SNOW SUFFERINGS AN INDIAN 
 
 HUT HOSPITAi TY IN SIGHT OF THE SA 
 CRAMENTO ARRIVAL AT SUTTER's. 
 
 ON the following morning, we found our 
 limbs so stiff and sore, as scarcely to be 
 able to move about With great difficulty 
 we gained the rivei, and bathed ourselves 
 in its cool, refreshing waters, as on the eve 
 ning previous. The result of this seemed 
 rery beneficial ; but still we suffered too 
 much from our recent almost superhuman 
 exertions, to think of leaving our present 
 locality for a day or two at least. 
 
 Looking back over the desert which had 
 nearly cost us our lives, we could barely 
 perceive the shadowy outline of some of 
 the highest peaks of the Bear River and 
 Wahsatch Mountains ; but not a trace of 
 that ridge whereon we had stood before 
 entering this unexplored territory, from 
 whence we had beheld distant oases and 
 streams, none of which, save the first, had 
 been found on our route. How this could 
 be, was a matter of serious speculation, 
 until Huntly suggested the fact of our hav 
 ing looked more to the southward than 
 westward. His observation struck me 
 quite forcibly ; for I now remembered hav 
 ing examined our compass, shortly after 
 leaving the Indians, and of altering our 
 course to the right, although previously I 
 remembered, too, feeling somewhat sur 
 prised at the time, that we had become so 
 turned, but had afterward forgotten the 
 trifling circumstance at least what then 
 appeared trifling though, as events prov 
 ed finally, a circumstance of life and death. 
 
 This then solved the mystery ! We had 
 come clue west, instead of west by south, 
 and consequently had missed the very 
 points we thought before us, and which 
 would have saved the lives of our poor 
 beasts. 
 
 For two days we remained on the bank 
 of the stream, which we not inappropri 
 ately named Providence Creek, without 
 venturing away the listance of thirty rods 
 
 during the whole time. On the morning 
 of the third day, we found our limbs so 
 pliable, and our strength so far recruited, 
 a$ to think ourselves justified in resuming 
 our travels, or at all events in making an 
 exploration of the ridge above us. 
 
 Accordingly, ascending to the summit 
 of the hill which was densely covered 
 with a wood somewhat resembling ash, 
 though not so large we made out the up 
 lands here to cover an area of five miles 
 in breadth by twenty in length, running 
 almost due north and south, and composed 
 of two parallel ridges, full of springs of 
 fine water, some of which ran outward 
 and formed the stream we had first gained, 
 and others inward, forming another in the 
 valley between, both ot which, taking a 
 southerly course, united on the way, and 
 entered at last into a beautiful lake, bare 
 ly visible from the highest point, and 
 which also appeared the grand reservoir 
 of the surrounding country. 
 
 Our present locality was a rich and 
 beautiful desert island, and had our horses 
 been here, they would have fared sumptu 
 ously on the green, luxuriant grass of the 
 valley. To the best of our judgment, 
 this spot had never before been visited by 
 human being, as no signs indicative there 
 of could be found. The only game we 
 could discover, were a few grbund animals 
 resembling the rabbit, and some gay plum 
 ed birds. We killed a few of each, and 
 on dressing and cooking them, found their 
 flavor, especially the former, very delicious 
 and nutritive. 
 
 In this manner we spent a week on 
 Mount Hope, as we termed the ridge, mak 
 ing explorations, killing game, &c., and 
 at the end of this time found our wonted 
 health and spirits nearly restored. We 
 knew not what was before us, it is true ; 
 but as kind Providence had almost mirac 
 ulously preserved us through so many 
 dangers, we no longer had dread of our 
 journey, nor fears of our safely reaching 
 the valley of the Sacramento, at which 
 point we aimed. 
 
 One thing in our rambles struck us 
 quite forcibly that in the beds of nearly 
 all the streams we examined, we found a 
 fine yellow substance, mixed with the dirt 
 and sands, which had every appearance of 
 gold. As we had no means of testing 
 
THE PRAIR/E FLOWER; OR, 
 
 this, we resolved l.o take some along as a 
 specimen, and should we escape, and our 
 surmises regarding it be confirmed, either 
 return ourselves, or put some hardy Ad 
 venturer in possession of the secret. If 
 this were indeed gold, it must of course 
 have its source in some mine in the vicin 
 ity ; and this important discovery alone, we 
 felt, would amply compensate us for all we 
 had dared and suffered in venturing hither. 
 
 The next morning, like each of the pre 
 ceding, being clear and serene, we resolv 
 ed to depart, and again try our fortunes. 
 Looking toward the west, we beheld in 
 the distance another camping ground ; and 
 hastening down the western slope of the 
 hills, we made our way directly toward it, 
 over a slightly undulating country, less 
 sterile in its appearance than the desert 
 we had crossed the previous week. We 
 were not able to reach it till after night 
 fall, and suffered more or less through the 
 day for want of water. Here we again 
 found a rich soil, wooded with what I be 
 lieve is termed the sage tree, and wa- 
 -tered by several delightful springs and 
 streams, in some of which we bathed, and 
 of which we drank, much to our relief. 
 
 To follow up our progress in detail, 
 would be to take up more space than can 
 now be spared for the purpose, and, in a 
 great measure, to repeat, with trifling va 
 riations, what I have already given. 
 
 Suffice it, therefore, that our journey 
 was continued day after day sometimes 
 over sandy deserts of two days' travel, 
 which blistered our feet, and where we 
 again suffered all the horrors of burning- 
 thirst sometimes over rough, dangerous 
 
 . , 
 
 and volcanic grounds, along side of giddy 
 precipices, and yawning chasms, and 
 adown steep declivities, where a single 
 misstep would have been fatal sometimes 
 across streams too deep to ford, and which 
 we were obliged to swim subsisting, a 
 .part of the way, on roots and such game 
 us we could kill, (our supply of jerk hav 
 ing given out,) and sleeping at night on 
 the sands, in the open air, or perhaps un 
 der the shelter of some overhanging rock 
 occasionally drenched with a storm of cold 
 rain, without a lire to dry our wet gar 
 ments, and suffering more or less from 
 hunger, and drought, and weariness, and 
 violent rheumatic pains. 
 
 Such was our pilgrimage, over an unex 
 plored country ; and yet through all our 
 sufferings, save the first, when we lost our 
 horses, our spirits were almost ever buoy 
 ant, and we experienced a rapturous de 
 light known only to the adventuitr. 
 
 Some six weeks from our leaving the 
 Wahsatch range, we came in sight of "he 
 lofty peaks of the Sierra Nev ida, which 
 we hailed with a shout of joy, similar to 
 that of a sailor discovering land after a 
 long, tedious voyage, and which awoke 
 echoes in a wilderness never before dis 
 turbed by the human voice. Five hundred 
 miles of an unknown region had been 
 passed, almost the whole distance on foot, 
 and now we stood in full view of our long 
 looked for desideratum. During this timo 
 we had not seen a human being always 
 excepting our unfortunate friends, the 
 Diggers which led us to the inference, 
 that the larger portion of this Great In 
 terior Basin was uninhabited or, at all 
 events, very thinly peopled. 
 
 From this point to the Sierra Nevada, 
 our course now lay over a rough, moun 
 tainous country, well watered and timber' 
 ed; and on the second day, we cairvi 
 upon one or two miserable, dilapidated 
 huts which, from all appearance, had long 
 been untenanted and a mile or two far 
 ther on, saw a small party of savages, 
 who, on discovering our approach, lied 
 precipitately to the highlands we proba 
 bly being the first white human beings 
 they had ever beheld. 
 
 About noon of the third day we came 
 to a beautiful lake, and going round it, 
 reached the foot of the mountain chain, 
 bounding the Great Basin on the west, 
 just as the sun, taking his diurnal farewell 
 of the snowy peaks above us, seemingly 
 transformed them, by his soft, crimson 
 light, into huge pillars of burnished gold. 
 We now considered ourselves compara 
 tively safe, though by no means out of dan 
 ger ; for our route, over these mighty 
 erections of nature, we were well aware, 
 must be one of extreme peril. Unlike the 
 desert, we might not suffer for want of wa 
 ter but, unlike the desert, too, we might 
 with cold, snows, storms, and from hostile 
 savages. 
 
 On the succeeding day we began oui 
 ascent. Up, up, up we toiled through 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 10* 
 
 <l<:nse thickets of dwarfish, shrubby trues 
 through creeping vines, full of brambles, 
 ihat lacerated our ankles and feet, (we had 
 'ong been shoeless,) up, up, up the steep 
 iLountain sides we struo-o-led over rocks 
 
 oo 
 
 which sometimes formed precipices that 
 only yielded us here and there a danger 
 ous foot-hold occasionally leaping across 
 canons, in which the torrent of the moun 
 tain rolled murmuring over its rocky bed 
 a thousand feet below us on, on, up and 
 on we pressed eagerly sometimes suffer 
 ing with fatigue, and with cold, and with 
 hunger up and on we bent our steps, for 
 two, long, wearisome days, ere we reached 
 the regions of eternal snow. 
 
 At last we stood upon the very back 
 bone of the Sierra Nevada, ten thousand 
 feet above the sea, surrounded by a few 
 cedars, loaded with snow and ice, the for 
 mer underneath us to the depth of many 
 fcet and gazed downward, far, far below 
 us upon the broad, barren plains, fertile 
 uplands, lovely valleys, and bright, silver 
 streams and lakes with feelings that are 
 indescribable. 
 
 A mile or two farther on, we came to a 
 pleasant valley, through which rolled a 
 beautiful stream. Here, collecting a sup- 
 pi/ of drift-wood, we kindled a bright fire, 
 and disposing ourselves around it, toasted 
 our already swollen and frost-bitten feet, 
 made our supper of a few roots and ber- 
 rits which we had collected on the way, 
 and occupied most of the night in con- 
 stiucting some rude moccasins out of a 
 quarter buffalo robe which we fortunately 
 had brought with us. 
 
 Thus for several days did we continue 
 our perilous journey passing through 
 scenes of danger and hardship, that, if 
 detailed, would fill a volume sustained, 
 in all our trials, by a holy Being, to whom 
 we daily and nightly gave the sincere 
 orisons of grateful hearts. 
 
 Once, during our mountain journey, we 
 came very nigh being buried in a furious 
 snowstorm ; and but for the providential 
 shelter of an Indian hut, ere durkness set 
 tled around us, this narrative in all proba 
 bility had never been written. The hut 
 m question, stood on the side of the moun 
 tain, and was constructed of sticks, wil 
 lows and rushes, well braided together, in 
 shape not unlike a modern beehive. The 
 
 tenants were an Indian, his squaw, and 
 two half-grown children, all miserable, and 
 filthy in their appearance. Our sudden 
 entry (for we did not stop for etiquette) 
 alarmed them terribly, and they screeched 
 and drew back, and huddled themselves 
 in the farther corner. However, on mak 
 ing them friendly signs, and intimating we 
 only sought protection from the storm, 
 they became reassured, and offered us 
 some nuts of a pleasant flavor, peculiar to 
 the country, and which, as I learned, 
 formed their principal food. We spent 
 the night with them, aud were treated with 
 hospitality. 
 
 On leaving I presented the host with a 
 pocket-knife, which he received with an 
 ejaculation of delight, and examined curi 
 ously. On opening 'it, and showing him 
 its uses, his joy increased to such a degree, 
 that, by signs, he immediately volunteered 
 to act as guide, and was accepted by us 
 without hesitation. He proved of great 
 service, in showing us the shortest and 
 best route over the mountains, and as a 
 kind of bodyguard against other savages, 
 whom we now occasional!) met, but whom 
 he restrained from approaching us with 
 any undue familiarity. 
 
 On arriving in sight of Sutler's settle 
 ment: situated near the junction of the 
 Rio Sacramento and Rio de los America 
 nos, or River of the Americans we gave 
 a wild shout of joy, and our guide made 
 signs that he would go no farther. As he 
 had been with us several days, and had 
 proved so faithful, we could not bear he 
 should part from us without a further tes 
 timonial of our generosity and gratitude. 
 Accordingly, drawing from my belt a sil 
 ver-mounted pistol, I discharged it, show 
 ed him how to load and fire it, and then 
 presented it to him, together with a belt- 
 knil'e and a good sivpply of powder and 
 ball ; and he went back with all the pride 
 of an emperor marching from the conquest 
 17 another kingdom. 
 
 Hurrying forward, with feelings which 
 are indescribable, we passed throuo-h a 
 beautiful valley, green with blade and 
 briy-ht with flowers through an Indian 
 village, where every person appeared neat 
 and comfortable, and well disposed toward 
 us and at last, ascending a slight emi 
 nence, just as day was closing, beheld 
 
104 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 before us, not half a mile distant, an 
 American fortress, though in a Mexican 
 country, and garrisoned by Indians. 
 
 In fifteen minutes more we had passed 
 the dusky sentinel at the gate, and entered 
 an asylum of- rest from our long pilgrim 
 age. We were received by Captain Sutter 
 himself, who, gathering only a brief out 
 line of our adventures and sufferings, ex 
 pressed surprise to see us here alive, shook 
 our hands with all the warm-heartedness 
 of an American friend, and gave us a 
 most cordial invitation to make his citadel 
 our home, so long as we might feel dis 
 posed to remain in the country. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 OUR APPEARANCE SUTTER AND FORT 
 
 LEAVE IN THE SPRING REFLECTIONS A 
 
 TEAR PASSED OVER ON OUR RETURN 
 
 THE ANTELOPE CHASE LOSS OF MY 
 
 FRIEND TERRIBLE \ FEARS DESPAIR 
 
 FEARFUL RESULTS, ETC. 
 
 WORN-OUT ar A starved-out our gar 
 ments all in Batters our frames emaciated 
 our faces long, thin and sallow with 
 sunken eyes and a beard of some two 
 months' growth r we presented anything 
 but an attractive appearance on our first 
 arrival at Sutler's. But with the aid of 
 soap and water a keen razor new rai 
 ment, and a couple of weeks'- rest we 
 began once more to resemble civilized be 
 ings, and feel like ourselves. 
 
 Captain Sutter we found to possess all 
 the retined qualities of a hospitable Amer 
 ican gentleman. He had emigrated to 
 this country, from the western part of 
 Missouri, a year or two previous to our 
 arrival, and had already succeeded in es 
 tablishing a fort, on a large grant of land 
 obtained from the Mexican government. 
 
 He had succeeded, too, in subduing and 
 making good citizens the surrounding In 
 dians, many of whom were already in his 
 employ some as soldiers, to guard his 
 fortress some as husbandmen to till his 
 soil and some as vaqueros, or cow- herds, 
 lo tend upon his kine and cattle ; so that 
 everything around gave indications of an 
 industrious, wealthy, and prosperous set 
 tler. 
 
 The fort itself was a large, quadrangu 
 lar adobe structure, capable of being gar 
 risoned by a thousand men though at 
 the time of which I speak, the "whole force 
 consisted of some thirty or forty Indians, 
 (in uniform) and some twenty-five Amer 
 ican, French, and German employes. It 
 mounted some ten or twelve pieces of ord 
 nance, and was well supplied with other 
 munitions of war, most of which, together 
 with a large number of stock, agricultural 
 and other stores, Sutter had purchased 
 from a neighboring Russian establishment, 
 prior to its being withdrawn from the 
 country. Its internal appearance its ar 
 rangement of carpenter and blacksmith 
 shops, store-rooms, offices, &c. so closely 
 resembled Fort Laramie, as to make fur 
 ther description unnecessary. 
 
 Here we remained through the winter, 
 amusing ourselves in various ways some 
 times in hunting among the mountains, 
 exploring the country, and fishing in th# 
 streams and at others, in making our 
 selves masters of the Spanish tongue, 
 which was spoken by many of the Indiani 1 
 and all of the natives. This last, how 
 ever, was more for our benefit than amuse* 
 ment as we had determined on a visit to 
 the seaport places in the lower latitudes 
 of Mexico, so soon as the annual sprijg 
 rains, being over, should leave the ground 
 in a good condition for traveling. 
 
 It was some time between the first a^d 
 middle of May, that, mounted upon a 
 couple of fiery horses which, decked otf 
 with all the showy trappings of two com 
 plete Spanish saddle equipments, had beei 
 pressed upon us as a present by our gen 
 erous host we bade adieu to the noble- 
 hearted Captain Sutter and family, and srt 
 out upon our southern journey. 
 
 As we rode along, it was with feelings 
 of pleasant sadness we looked back over 
 the eventful past, and remembered that 
 about this time a year ago, two gay 
 youths, fresh from college, were leaving 
 friends and home for the first time, to ven 
 ture they scarce knew whither. And what 
 of those friends now ? Were they alive, 
 and well, and ) in prosperity ? Had their 
 thoughts been much on the wanderers? 
 Had they looked for our return? Had 
 they wept in secret for our absence, an<3 
 prayed daily for our preservation ? Ah I 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 10ft 
 
 ys, we well knew all this had been done ; 
 and the thought that we were still keep 
 ing them in suspense that we were still 
 venturing farther and farther away could 
 not but make us sad. But, withal, as I 
 said before, it was a pleasant sadness ,- for 
 we secretly felt a delight in going over new 
 scenes beholding new objects. More 
 over, we were now in good health ; our 
 constitutions felt vigorous ; and this tended 
 to raise our spirits. 
 
 What an eventful year had the past one 
 been ! Through what scenes of trial, 
 privation, suffering, and peril had we not 
 passed ! And yet, amid all, how had we 
 been sustained by the hand of Omnipo 
 tence ! How had we been lifted up and 
 borne forward over the quicksands of 
 despair ! And when all appeared an end 
 less, rayless night, how had our trembling 
 souls been rejoiced by the sudden light of 
 hope beaming upon our pathway, and 
 showing us a haven of rest ! 
 
 But where would another year find us ? 
 In what quarter of the habitable globe, 
 aud under what circumstances? Should 
 we be among the living, or the dead? 
 The dead ! What a solemn thought, to 
 think that our bones might be reposing in 
 the soil of the stranger thousands of 
 miles from all we loved, and from all that 
 loved us ! What a startling idea ! And 
 vet, in our journeyings, how indifferent, 
 how careless had we been of life ! With 
 what fooihardiness had we even dared 
 death to meet us ! And still, with all the 
 frightful warnings of the past before us, 
 how recklessly were we plunging on to 
 new scenes of danger ! Why did we not 
 turn now, and bend our steps homeward ? 
 Had we not seen enough, suffered enough, 
 to satisfy the craving desires of youth ? 
 
 Hume ! what a blessed word of a thou 
 sand joys ! With what pleasing emotions 
 the thought would steal upon our senses ! 
 What a world of affection was centered 
 there ! What happy faces the thought re 
 called, and how we longed to behold them ! 
 Longfed, ytt took the very course to put 
 vime and distance between us and them ! 
 A.nd this to gratify what our sober reason 
 told us what was only a foolish, boyish 
 passion a craving love of adventure ! 
 
 Home. ! In that word 1 beheld the loved 
 faces of my parents. In that word I be 
 
 held the welcome visages of my friends. 
 In that word, more than all, I beheld the 
 sweet, rv^lancholy countenance of Lilian ! 
 
 Lilian ! how this name stirred the, se 
 cret emotions of a passionate soul ' H;\d 
 I forgotten her ? Had I, through all the 
 varied scenes I had passed, for a moment 
 lost sight of her lovely countenance of 
 her sweet eyes beaming upon me the 
 warm affections of an ardent soul ? No 
 I had not forgot, I never could forget, her. 
 She was woven among the libers of my 
 existence. To tear her hence, would be 
 to rend and shatter the soul itself. Thou 
 sands of miles away, she was not absent. 
 She was with me in all my trials, suffer 
 ings and perils. Present by day, with her 
 eyes of love. Hovering around me in the 
 still watches of night, as it were the guar 
 dian angel of my destiny. Lilian was 
 loved. Time and distance proved it. 
 Loved with a heart that could never for 
 sake never so love another. I had done 
 her wrong. But should God spare my 
 life, and permit us again to meet, how 
 quickly, by every means in my power, 
 would I strive to repair it. 
 
 Such and similar were our thoughts, as 
 we again bent our steps upon a long jour 
 ney. But I will not test your patience, 
 reader, with more. Neither am I going 
 to weary you with along detail of common 
 place events. In other words, I am not 
 going to describe our journey to the south. 
 Like similar journeys, it was full of fatigue, 
 with here and there an incident, or a curi 
 osity, perhaps a danger which, were I 
 making an official report to government, 
 would be necessary to note but over 
 which you, doubtless, would yawn and call 
 the writer stupid. 
 
 Suffice it, then, that with me you let a 
 year pass unnoted. That you imagine us 
 having gone a thousand miles into the 
 heart of Mexico, and, heartily sick and dis 
 gusted with our travels, the people, and 
 for the most part the country, you now rind 
 us on our glad journey to the north fully 
 determined, in our own minds, from this 
 time forward, to let such as choose go 
 among barbarians worse than savages, so 
 they seek not us for companions. From 
 this sweeping clause of condemnation, lei 
 me save the Mexican ladies ; who, for the 
 most part, exercise Christian virtues w irthj 
 
106 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 of a better fate than being yoked ;md bound 
 to such lazy, filthy, treacherous brutes as 
 hold over them the dominion of lord and 
 muster. But enough! The bare thought 
 of the latter puts me in a passion ; and so 
 to get an even temper once more, let me 
 consign them to oblivious contempt. 
 
 You 'will fancy, then, that a year has 
 passed, and that we, having so far escaped 
 with our lives, are now on our return to 
 Upper California, thence to shape our route 
 to Oregon, and then, ho ! for the far dis 
 tant land of our childhood. 
 
 Little did we dream in that happy mo 
 ment of contemplation, of the terrible ca 
 lamity about to befall us. Little did we 
 think that our hearts, bright with hope and 
 joy, were soon to be clouded with woe un 
 utterable grief inconsolable. And why 
 should we '? We who had been through 
 so many perils, and made so many miracu 
 lous escapes, where death seemed inevita 
 ble why should we now, comparatively 
 safe, already on our return, for a moment 
 harbor the thought that a misfortune, be 
 fore which all we had suffered sunk into 
 insignificance, was impending us ? How 
 little does man know his destiny ! Poor, 
 blind mortal ! what presumption in him to 
 attempt to read the scroll of fate ! But 
 let me not anticipate. 
 
 It was a bright, warm day in the spring 
 of 1842, that we arrived at Pueblo de los 
 Angelos, where the Great Spanish Trail 
 comes in from Santa Fe. We had been 
 on the move day after day for nearly a 
 month, during which time we had traveled 
 some five hundred miles, and our horses 
 were very much fatigued in consequence. 
 Besides, their shoes being worn out and 
 their feet sore, we resolved to remain here 
 a few days, to have them shod, recruited, 
 and put in a good traveling condition, while 
 our time was to be spent in hunting, and 
 examining the country round about. 
 
 Giving our beasts in charge of a respon 
 sible person, with orders to see them well 
 attended to, we set forward with our rifles, 
 and taking the Spanish Trail, which here 
 ran due east and west, we followed it some 
 two miles, and then leaving it to the right, 
 struck off into the mountains known as the 
 Coast Range. 
 
 About noon we came to a point where 
 '.he touutry assumed a very rough and wild 
 
 appearance. Cliff upon cliff rose one 
 the other, above which, still, a few peaks 
 shot up far heavenward, capped -with ever 
 lasting snows. Tremendous precipices, 
 deep caverns, and wild gorges, could be 
 seen on every hand, full of danger to the 
 unwary explorer. 
 
 Making a hak, we were already debating 
 whether to advance or retrace our steps, 
 when, as if to decide and lure us forward, 
 a fine antelope was discovered on a rock 
 above us, not over a hundred yards dis- ' 
 tant, coolly eyeing us from his supposed 
 sale retreat. Scarce a moment elapsed, 
 so quick were the motions of each, ere our 
 pieces, speaking together, told him too late 
 of his error. lie was wounded, this we 
 could see, but not enough to prevent his 
 flight, and he turned and bounded over tha 
 rocks up the steep. 
 
 " By heavens ! Frank," cried Huntly, 
 with enthusiasm, " here is sport in earnest. 
 Nothing to do but give chase. He must 
 not escape us. Dart you up the mountain, 
 while I, by going round, will perhaps head 
 him off on the other side. At all events, 
 we will soon meet again." 
 
 On the impulse of the moment, I sprang 
 forward in one direction and Huntly in 
 another. To the great danger of my 
 neck, I clambered up the steep aclivity, 
 over precipitous rocks, gaping fissures, and 
 through a dense brushwood, and stood at 
 last upon the spot where we had first seen 
 the goat. Here was a small pool of blood, 
 and a bloody trail marked the course ot 
 the animal ; and I pressed on again, right 
 ly judging, from the quantity of blood left 
 behind, that he could not hold out any 
 great distance. But the distance proved 
 farther than I had anticipated, and half an 
 hour found me completely out of breath, 
 on the brow of one of the lower ridges, 
 without having come in sight of the ante 
 lope. Here the trail, more bloody than 
 ever, took a downward course, and 1 
 counted on finding the chase between me 
 and the foot of the hill. At this moment I 
 heard, as I fancied, the shout of my friend ; 
 and thinking it one of delight, on being 
 the first to reach the goat, 1 gave an an 
 swering one of joy, and descended rapidly 
 on the red trail. 
 
 Within fifty yards of the the valley, I 
 discovered the object of my search, lying 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 107 
 
 on his side, pierced by two bullets, and in 
 the last agonies of death. Applying my 
 knife to his throat, I made an end of his 
 sufferings, and then looked eagerly around 
 for my .friend. He was nowhere to be 
 seen. I called but no answer. This 
 somewhat surprised me, as I felt certain 
 of having heard his voice in this direction. 
 Thinking he could not be far off, I repeated 
 bis name at the top of my lungs, but with 
 no better success. 
 
 Although somewhat alarmed, I consoled 
 myself by thinking I must have been mis 
 taken in the sound I had heard, and that 
 at >11 events he would soon make his ap 
 pearance. With this, I seated myself on 
 the ground, and throwing the breech of 
 my rifle down the mountain, occupied my 
 self in loading it. 
 
 Minute after minute went by, but no 
 Huntly appeared, and I began to grow ex 
 ceedingly uneasy. For a while I fancied 
 he might be watching me from some, near 
 covert, just to note the eflect of his ab 
 sence ; but when a half hour had rolled 
 around, and nothing had been seen nor 
 heard of him, I became alarmed in earnest. 
 
 Springing to my feet, I shouted his 
 name several times, with all the accents of 
 fright and despair. Then darting down to 
 the valley, I ran round the foot of the 
 mountain, making the woods echo with 
 my calls at every step. In half an hour 
 more I had gained the point where we 
 parU'd but still no Huntly. God of 
 mercy ! who can describe my feelings 
 then ! Nearly frantic, I retraced my 'steps, 
 touting till my lungs were sore but, alas! 
 with no better success. There lay the an 
 telope, as I had left it, showing that no 
 one had been there during my absence. 
 
 Until the shades of night began to settle 
 over the earth, I continued my almost 
 frantic iearch ; and then, thinking it possi 
 ble H 1 ntly might have returned to the set 
 tlement, 1 set out for Los Angelos, with the 
 bpeed and feelings of madman. 
 
 When I arrived there, it had long been 
 night. To my eager inquiries, each and 
 ail shook their heads, and replied that my 
 
 friend had not been seen sine B we departed 
 in the morning. Who could describe, who 
 imagine, my anguish on hearing this 1 
 Huntly, my bosom companion, was lost. 
 Capturud it might be by guerrillas, or by 
 Indians. Destroyed, perhaps, by some 
 wild beast, or by falling down some preci 
 pice, or into some chasm. Gone he was, 
 most certainly ; and I wrung my hands in 
 terrible agony, and called wildly upon his 
 name, though I knew he could not hear 
 me. So great was my distress, that it ex 
 cited the pity of the spectators, several of 
 whom volunteered to go back with me and 
 search for him with torches. The propo 
 sition I accepted eagerly, and that night 
 the mountains sparkled with flaming lights, 
 and their deep recesses resounded the 
 name of my friend, and cries of anguish. 
 All night long we searched faithfully, and 
 shouted with all our might. But, alas ! all 
 to no avail. My friend came not answer 
 ed not perhaps never would again. 
 
 When daylight once more lighted that 
 fatal spot, and those who had assisted me, 
 declared it useless to search longer that 
 Huntly was either dead or a prisoner my 
 anguish exceeded the strength of my rea 
 son to bear, and I became a raving maniac. 
 
 For two months from that date, I had 
 no knowledge of what transpired ; and 
 when, by the grace of God, consciousness 
 again returned, I found myself in a feeble 
 state, a close prisoner at Pueblo de los 
 Angelos. 
 
 To a noble-hearted Mexican lady, wife 
 of a Mexican military officer, for her kind 
 ness to, and care of, a forlorn stranger, is 
 due a debt of gratitude, which, perhaps, I 
 may never have power to cancel ; but 
 which, it is my daily prayer, may be found 
 written upon the eternal pages of the Great 
 Book of All -Good. 
 
 In June, a sad, emaciated, almost heart 
 broken being, I resumed my journey to the 
 north. But alas ! alas ! poor Charles 
 Huntly ! His fate was still unknown. His 
 last words to me, spoken gaily, " At all 
 events we shall soon meet again, 1 " had ntrei 
 been fulfilled. 
 
toe 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 ON THE ROCKT MOUNTAINS EOMEWARD 
 
 BOUND SAD REFLECTIONS RAPIU DE- 
 
 BCENT TWO ENCAMPMENTS MEET OLD 
 
 FRIENDS INCOG. THEIR FRIENDSHIP 
 
 TESTED MAKE MYSELF KNOWN FRANTIC 
 
 JOY VISIT THE SICK PAINFUL AND UN 
 EXPECTED MEETING. 
 
 I stood upon the summit of the Rocky 
 Mountains. 1 stood upon that point of 
 land which divides the rivers of the Atlan 
 tic from the Pacific oceans. Upon that 
 mighty barrier, which bids its gushing riv 
 ulets roll eastward and westward. Where, 
 springing from the same source, as chil 
 dren from the same parents, they are sep 
 arated by the hand of fate, to end their 
 course thousands of miles apart. 
 
 I stood upon the great dividing ridge of 
 the North American Continent, and cast 
 my eyes over a mighty expanse of territo 
 ry. But with what feelings did I gaze 
 sround me! Were they feelings of joy ! 
 NTo ! they could not be joyous. There was 
 one absent from my side, that made them 
 sad. I needed the bright eye, noble face, 
 commanding form, warm heart, and strong 
 hand of one who was now perhaps no more. 
 Had he been by my now melancholy gaze 
 had been one of intoxicating, enthusiastic 
 rapture. In every hill, in every tree, in 
 every rock, in every rill, I would have be 
 held something to make my heart leap 
 with delight for now I was homeward 
 bound. 
 
 What a strange creature is man ' It is 
 said that he sees with his eyes but I con 
 tend that his heart gives color to his vision. 
 Jf not, why do the same scenes, unchang 
 ed in their appearance, to him present 
 different aspects? Why does that which 
 to-day he beholds coleur de rose, to-mor 
 row wear the sable hue of gloom ? Is 
 not the scene the same? Are not his 
 eyes the same ? Ay ! but yesterday his 
 heart was light and bounding with joy 
 to-day it is dark and oppressed with grief 
 All the change, then, lies in the heart. 
 
 Yes ! here I stood alone my face set 
 eastward my steps bent to the still far 
 distant land of my youth. What had I 
 not been through, what had 1 not suffered, 
 wnoe quitting that roof under which I had 
 
 known nothing but happiness and ease ? 
 In little more than two years, I felt I had 
 lived an age, and even fancied my hair 
 growing gray at twenty-two. 
 
 Yes ! I was wending my way to my na 
 tive land ; but should God permit me to 
 reach there alive, what an unenviable lot 
 was mine, to make the home of my friend 
 the house of lamentation and woe ! And 
 Lilian, dear Lilian, to whom, would to 
 God, I could bring nothing but joy I 
 must be doomed, too, to make her weep, 
 to till her bright eyes with tears, and robe 
 her fair form in funeral weeds. Alasl 
 alas ! what bitter necessity ! How my 
 soul groaned in anguish at the thought, 
 until I envied the supposed cold death- 
 sleep of him I wept. 
 
 Such were some of my thoughts and 
 feelings, as I commenced descending the 
 eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. I 
 have said nothing of my route hither, since 
 leaving Pueblo de los Angelos, and forth 
 very reason there was little or nothing to 
 say. My horse had borne me hither ; my 
 hand had guided him ; my food had been 
 such as came in my way ; my sleep hail 
 been mostly upon the hard earth in th 
 open air ; my route had occasionally be?a 
 pointed out to me occasionally had beer 
 taken at a venture : I had sometimes h.id 
 companions sometimes had traveled bj 
 myself; and, lastly, was here now, alonti, 
 and that was the most I knew. Oppress- 
 ed with a burden of grief almost insup 
 portable, I had taken little note of external 
 objects. With a sort of instinct, I had 
 day after day, pursued my journey, pel 
 fectly reckless of that life which to m 
 seemed more an affliction than a comfort 
 I had been surrounded by dangers at all 
 times ; I had been less cautious than pre 
 vious in guarding against them ; and yel 
 here I was alive in fair bodily health 
 preserved how, and for what purpose, God 
 only knew. 
 
 It was near the close of August, and 
 the day v/as clear and cold, the sun, 
 some three hours advanced toward noon, 
 streamed over the scene his bright light, 
 but without much apparent warmth. The 
 north wind, sweeping down from th icjr 
 peaks of the Wind River Mountains 
 looming up in rugged masses away to the 
 left seemed to chill my very blood; anu 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 109 
 
 purring my noble horse onward, I dashed 
 down the long slope before me at a fast 
 gallop. 
 
 A little after nightfall, I came to a ro 
 mantic valley, shut in by hills, through 
 which a bright stream rolled, and foamed, 
 and murmured over its rocky bed. Here 
 I beheld the fires of two encampments. 
 The one nearest the bank of the river, was 
 evidently a party of emigrants ; for by the 
 dim light, I coul J just trace the white out 
 line of seveial covered wagons, and a few 
 dark, moving objects near them, which I 
 took to be their animals. I could also see 
 A few figures fritting to and fro, some 
 /ound the fire-lights, and some more dis 
 tant engaged, to all appearance, in pre 
 paring the evening's repast, and settling 
 themselves down for the night. The other 
 encampment, separated from the first some 
 thirty or forty rods, consisted of only one 
 fire, around which were squatted a small 
 group of mountaineers. To this I directed 
 017 horse, and, on coming up, said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, will you permit a solita* 
 ry traveler to mess with you for the 
 nitfht ? " 
 
 " Well, we won't do nothin else," re 
 plied a voice which I fancied was not un 
 familiar to me. 
 
 Although this answer signified I was 
 wrlcome to join them, yet not a man mov 
 ed, nor appeared to notice me at all. 
 This, however, did not disconcert me in the 
 least, as I knew so well the morose, semi- 
 eocial habits of the mountaineer, that, to 
 gain a grunt of assent to my request, was 
 the utmost I could expect. I therefore 
 dismounted, and, approaching the tire, 
 scrutinized the faces of the party closely, 
 as, rolling out clouds of tobacco smoke, 
 they remained fixed like posts in a circle, 
 their eyes apparently seeing nothing but 
 the flames. Judge of my astonishment, 
 reader, on discovering in this party of five, 
 two of my old acquaintances Black 
 George, and Teddy O'Lagherty. My 
 first impulse was to spring forward, and 
 make myself known at once. But on 
 second thought, 1 concluded to remain 
 incog., and see what would be the result. 
 
 Removing the saddle and trappings 
 from my horse, I hoppled and left him to 
 crop the green grass of the valley. Then 
 drawing nwir the firt, I squatted myself 
 
 down in the ring, just far enough back to 
 bave a shade upon my face. The trappers 
 were engaged in conversation of more 
 than ordinary interest, and appeared not 
 to notice me ; while, for my own part, I 
 determined not to interrupt them. 
 
 " Think she'll hevto go under," observ 
 ed Black George, with an omincnis shako 
 of the head. Thar's many places better 
 to be sick in nor this here." 
 
 " Ah, jabers ! but it's har-r-d now, so 
 it is," rejoizied Teddy, looking very solemn, 
 " Howty murther ! but I wish mesilf a doc- 
 thor now barring the physicing, that I 
 don't like at all at all if ounly to make 
 the face of that swaat crathur glad, by 
 tilling her I knows her mother's ailment. 
 Ochone ! but she's the purtiest live' one 
 I've saan since laving ould Ireland, where 
 I wish mesilf back again. I could love 
 her, for looking so much like me young 
 masther, that's 'dead and gone, pace to his 
 bones. Ochone ! this is a sorry world, 
 so it is." 
 
 " How she looked, when she axed for a 
 doctor of me," observed another. " Ef 
 I hadn't left soon, I'd a done somethin wo 
 manish, sartin." 
 
 "Augh ! " grunted Black George, knock 
 ing the ashes from his pipe ; "sich sights 
 as them aint fit for us mountaineers." 
 
 "Of whom are you speaking, friends ? " 
 I now inquired, deeply interested. 
 
 " A beauthiful lady, sir, and her mother 
 as is sick," replied Teddy, turning toward 
 me an eager look. 
 
 I instantly shaded my face with my 
 hand, as if to keep off the heat, and saw 
 I was not recognized. 
 
 " And where is the lady you speak 
 of?" 
 
 " In the wagin, yonder. The ould lady 
 is sick, and they've not a spalpeen of a 
 docthor among 'em, and the young miss 
 is crying like she'd break her heart, poor 
 thing ! For the matter of that, there's two 
 young females, now, that's crying but 
 only one saams to be the daughther. May 
 be it's a docthor you is, now, by your wee 
 look and thinness ? " 
 
 " I was educated to the profession, but 
 have never practiced." 
 
 " Troth, it's no difference ye must go 
 an' sae the lady for it's Heaven iin: ye 
 here, I'm knowing mesilf." 
 
110 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 " Bui;, T (I was on the point of speak 
 ing his name) but I hav.j no medicine." 
 
 " Divil a- bit difference for that. Ye 
 must be a filler saaing her, if ye's a docthor 
 and can spaak the Latin names they 
 gives, whin physic's short if ounly to 
 comfort the young lady that's dying of 
 grief" 
 
 " Well, well, I will go," I said, finding 
 
 . o ' ' O 
 
 myself fully in for it, and my curiosity be 
 ing a good deal excited, also, to see the 
 ladv whom all agreed in describing as 
 
 * O O 
 
 beautiful. 
 
 " Ah ! that's a good sowl ye is now ! " 
 said the warm, generous-hearted Teddy, 
 who seemed as much interested for the 
 fair stranger, as if she were his own sister. 
 " It's a good sowl ye is, now, to go and 
 sae her ! Faith ! ye puts me in mind of 
 a young masther I once had voice and 
 nil barring that he was a wee bit bether 
 looking nor you is." 
 
 " Indeed ! And what was your mas 
 ter's name ? " 
 
 " Och ! I had a pair of 'em. One was 
 Misther Huntly, a lawyer and the other, 
 Misther Leighton, a docthor. It's the 
 docthor ye puts me in mind of now." 
 
 " Well, what became of them ? " 
 
 " Oh ! sir," cried Teddy, wiping the 
 tears from his eyes, " they got killed, sir. 
 The divilish, murthering, baastly tiefs 
 of Injins killed and ate 'em. Ochone ! 
 ochone ! " and he rung his brands at the 
 bare thought, and sobbed for very grief. 
 
 " Why, you seem to take it to heart as 
 much as if they were related to you." 
 
 " And so would you, an' ye'd a knowed 
 'em, sir. They was two sich swant youths ! 
 Pertict gintlemen, and jist from college, as 
 I heard 'em say mysilf. Ochone ! but I'd 
 a died for 'em asy, and no questions axed, 
 an' they'd a towld me to." 
 
 " Li'ighton! Leighton!" repeated I, mu 
 singly, 'as if trying to remember where 1 
 hadf before heard the name. " Leighton ! 
 fresh from college, say you ? Was the 
 one you term doctor, from Boston ? " 
 
 ''Ah, troth was he!" cried Teddy, 
 jumping up in excitement. " Then ye 
 know him, sir, it may be, by your way of 
 Bpakin^r, jist ? " 
 
 " I know enough of him," I answered, 
 now fully determined on putting Teddy's 
 friendship to the test. 
 
 " Arrah ! sir, and what d'ye niaan by- 
 saying the likes of that, now ? " 
 
 " What do I mean ? Why, my meaning 
 is very simple. I know that this fellow 
 you are so fond of lauding, is not a whit 
 better than I am." 
 
 " And I maan ye're a dirthy, spalpeen 
 blaggard docthor or no doclhor jist for 
 spaking in that contimptible manner of 
 the finest gintleman as was iver saan and 
 no exceptions made to your dirthy self, 
 that's not worth the snap of me finger! 
 Whoop ! ye blaggard ! don't be grinning 
 that way at your bethers but jist come 
 out here like a man, ye cowardly tief ! and 
 sac- what I'll taach ye ! Whoop ! " 
 
 Here the Irishman jumped up and crack 
 ed his heels, and made several warlike de 
 monstrations with his fists, much to my 
 amusement and satisfaction. The trappers, 
 too, gathered themselves upon their feet, 
 in anticipation of a fight ; arid as I show 
 ed no disposition to reply to Teddy, Blach 
 George turned his dark visage to me, and 
 said, grufily : 
 
 " Come, young chap, you've got to chaw 
 them words you've jest put travelin, 01 
 git licked afore you ken say beans." 
 
 " What have'l said ? " 1 replied, find 
 ing the matter becoming serious, and pro 
 tending to exculpate myself. '' I merely 
 intimated that Mr. Leighton was no better 
 than myself; and what more could I say, 
 when of course I think myself as good as 
 anybody ? " 
 
 " Yes, it's all very well, boy, for you 
 to talk," returned Black George ; " but 
 heyar's what knows a insult from a bea 
 ver, I reckons ; and ef you don't chaw 
 them words in less nor two minutes, and 
 own up you aint no equal to him you've 
 spoke aginst, I'll ram some fodder down 
 your gullet you won't swoller easy el 1 
 don't, I hope I may be dogged for a dirty 
 skunk all my life ! " and he ended by 
 shaking his fist rather nearer my face than 
 was agreeable. 
 
 " Yes, and now be takin thim bark ! " 
 roared Teddy, making preparations to 
 spring upon me, " or I'll turn ye inside 
 out, and shake ye as I used me masther's 
 carpet-bag, that's dead and gone not the 
 bag, but the masther, ye blaggard ye 1 " 
 
 1 now found, that to restore myself to 
 the good graces of iny friends, I should 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 Ill 
 
 be obliged to own myself a falsifier, or 
 make myself known. As I had fully 
 tested their friendship for my absent self, 
 I chose the latter. 
 
 " fJentlemcn," I rejoined, mildly, " I 
 tau prove everything I have said ; and 
 even you will acknowledge it, when I tell 
 you who I am. You behold before you, 
 not the calumniator of Francis Leighton, 
 but Francis Leighton himself, your old 
 friend." 
 
 Had a bomb suddenly fallen and burst 
 at their feet, it could not have caused more 
 surprise and wonder with Teddy and Black 
 George than did this simple declaration. 
 
 At first they both took a step or two 
 back, and then springing forward, each 
 caught me by an arm, and, drawing me 
 jose to the tire, peered eagerly into 
 my face. One full, penetrating glance 
 ufficed. 
 
 " Him, by ! " cried Black George. 
 
 " Howly Mary ! " shouted Teddy, throw- 
 his arms around my neck, and weep- 
 like a child. Then taking another Ion" 1 
 
 O O 
 
 look into my face, he sprang away, and 
 shouting, " Be howly St. Patrick ! it's 
 him it's him ! me young masther's 
 alive ! " he danced and capered around 
 me. with all the wild gestures of joyful in 
 sanity sometimes weeping, and sometimes 
 laughing, and occasionally catching hold 
 of me, as if to assure himself of my iden 
 tity, and that it was no vision, no halluci 
 nation of the brain. 
 
 Black George, meantime, pressed my 
 hand warmly, and said, in a voice slightly 
 tremulous with emotion : 
 
 " Boy, I never reckoned seein you agin. 
 Thought you'd gone under I'll be dog 
 gone ef I did'nt ! You fit well I'll be 
 dqifsjed ef vou didn't ! But whar d'ye float 
 
 J 
 
 to, and whnr's your partner ? " 
 
 ftome half an hour was now spent in 
 questions and answers, during which I 
 learned that Fiery Ned and Rash Will had 
 both been killed at Bitter Cottonwood ; 
 that Daring Tom had been severely 
 wounded, and shortly after left for the 
 States ; that Carson had escaped, and was 
 at the present time acting as guide to 
 Fremont ; that Teddy had been on a trap 
 ping adventure with Black George and two 
 or three others ; that, having recently 
 made a fcrip to St. Louis, they wer<i now 
 
 on their way to the mountains ; and thai 
 neither myself nor Huntlyhad been hoard 
 from since that eventful night in conse 
 quence of Avhich they had supposed us 
 killed or made prisoners. In turn I gave 
 them a brief outline of my own adven 
 tures, up to the loss of my friend, at which 
 both expressed deep sympathy, and Teddy 
 wept freely. 
 
 "Spaking of Misther Huntly," said 
 Teddy at length, " puts me in mind that 
 you havn't yit saan the sick woman, your 
 honor." 
 
 " True, Teddy I had forgot. Lead 
 the way ! " 
 
 At the word, we quitted the trappers, 
 and set forward to the larger encampment, 
 where I found some six or eight heavy 
 covered wagons, arranged in a circle. In 
 the center of the area stood a group of 
 men, conversing in low tones, and glancing 
 occasionally at one of the vehicles, around 
 which several women were collected, the 
 faces of all, as far as I could see, expressive 
 of deep sympathy and sorrow. Close to 
 the wagon, in which on a rude bed the in 
 valid was Ivinv were two younij females, 
 
 v o * J O 
 
 apparently of the better class, one of whom, 
 clasping the thin hand of the sick person, 
 particularly arrested my attention, by her 
 display of violent grief. The other ap 
 peared to be weeping also ; but the faces 
 of both were from me, so that I could only 
 conjecture. 
 
 Taking the lead, Teddy forced his way 
 through the crowd, and lightly touching 
 the shoulder of the one who held the in 
 valid's hand, said, in a gentle tone : 
 
 " Here's a doctor, marm." 
 
 The next moment I found myself the 
 cynosure of many eyes, while the one ad 
 dressed, turning short round, gave one 
 glance, and uttering a fearful scream, sank 
 to the earth in a swoon. What this meant 
 I was at a loss to comprehend ; for her 
 features had been in the shade of the same 
 light which revealed mine to her. 
 
 " Nervous excitement," I said to my 
 self; "joy at beholding a physician at 
 hand ; " and springing forward, I bent 
 down to raise her. 
 
 Already had my arms encircled her 
 
 slender form already was I on the point 
 
 of lifting her from the earth when the 
 
 I light of a torch flashed full on her pai 
 
U2 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 sountenance. One look ! one sudden 
 itart ! one exclamation of agonized wonder ! 
 and I remained fixed, with eyes half start 
 ing from their sockets speechless mo 
 tionless seemingly transformed to stone 
 my arms encircling merciful Heaven ! 
 the lovely form of Lilian Huntly ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 INDESCRIBABLE FEELINGS QUESTIONS FOR 
 
 THE METAPHYSICIAN DIGRESSION PAIN 
 FUL AFFLICTIONS OF MY FRIEND'S FAMILY 
 
 WESTERN FEVER CAUSES INDUCING 
 
 EMIGRATION AN IMAGINARY CITY A 
 
 MYSTERIOUS LADY AND DAUGHTER, ETC. 
 
 THERE are feelings that cannot be de 
 scribed. There are emotions too deep for 
 utterance. There are times when the mind 
 has power to paralize the body. When 
 racking thought forces us to live an age in 
 a minute. When we see and know all 
 that is going on around us, an'd yet seem 
 to be separate from the world to exist 
 in a world of ideality a spiritual state. 
 When our whole life, like a map, seems 
 laid before us, and we behold at a single 
 glance, in a second of time, what has taken 
 us years to enact. When, leaping over 
 the past and the present, we seem to pierce 
 the great vail of the future, and behold our 
 destiny. 
 
 May not this be a foretaste of death ? 
 May we not so see, and feel, and know, 
 when the spirit shall have become sepa 
 rated from its frail tenement of mortality ? 
 
 I have said there are such feelings and 
 emotions ; but they can only result from 
 the most powerful causes. Neither do 
 they effect all in the same manner. While 
 a few experience the sensations just de 
 scribed, to others the same or similar causes 
 may be productive of death, insanity, or 
 the death-like swoon of utler forgetfulness. 
 
 Of the former class, was I of the lat 
 ter, Lilian. The same emotions which 
 forced her to unconsciousness paralized 
 tny physical powers, and forced me to a 
 consciousness beyond the natural. 
 
 Bending over her my eyes seemingly 
 glazed, and fixed upon her sweet face, now 
 pale and death-like I remained spell 
 bound all my animal faculties suspended. 
 
 I heard a trampling of feet, as several per 
 sons hurried to our assistance. I heard 
 voices expressive of alarm and dismay 
 and, above all, the voice of the invalid 
 calling Lilian by name. I was conscious 
 of being removed of seeing the idol of 
 my heart raised and borne away also. 1 
 felt my limbs chafed by half a dozen hands, 
 and water dashed in my face. I saw thua, 
 felt thus, comprehended all and yet my 
 mind was wandering far away to other 
 scenes. 
 
 Have we power to think of more than 
 one thing at the same time ? I contend 
 that we have or else that thought, swift 
 beyond comparison, sets before us differ 
 ent scenes, with such rapidity, that we seem 
 to behold two at once sometimes half-a- 
 dozen and yet, each perhaps, as opposite 
 and distant as the north and south poles. 
 
 While I comprehended what was going 
 on around me, my mind flew back to youth 
 to the time when I first felt a passion 
 foe Lilian and traced every event of my. 
 life up to the present moment. Even tioe 
 dream wherein I had seen her bowvjfi 
 down by poverty, and finally murdered ly 
 my supposed rival was not overlooked ; 
 and it now recurred to me as a vision of 
 prophecy. Something fearful had hap 
 pened, and I had been warned of it in uiy 
 sleep. 
 
 How is it that in our sleep events are 
 made known to us, that really are, or are 
 about taking place ? Can it be that the 
 spirit then roams at will, in all the freedom 
 of disembodiment, and returns freighted 
 with intelligence to communicate to the 
 physical senses ? Let the philospher and 
 metaphysician answer ! Enough for me 
 the effect, without at present seeking the 
 cause. 
 
 And here, to keep my narrative straight 
 before the render, let me digress one mo 
 ment, to place him in possession of facts 
 which I gleanod afterward partly from 
 Lilian partly from her companions of th 
 journey. 
 
 It will be remembered, that in the open 
 ing of this story, I mentioned my own 
 father, and the father of my friend, as be 
 ing wealthy merchants in the city of Bos 
 ton. Shortly after our departure it migbi 
 be on that very night of my singular drears 
 news of the failure of three large house* 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 118 
 
 m New York, gave Huntly the astounding 
 information that he was not worth a thou 
 sand dollars beyond his obligations. I am 
 not going to describe his feelings, nor 
 those of his family, on finding themselves 
 thus suddenly plunged from a state of un 
 limited wealth to one of comparative pov 
 erty. The effect upon the elder Huntly, 
 was to ruin him in his own estimation for 
 life ; and it soon became apparent to his 
 friends, that he would not long survive the 
 shock. All his energy, his ambition, went 
 with his property ; and a cloud of melan 
 choly and grief settled over his once bright 
 and joyous countenance. Several warm 
 hearted friends, among whom was my 
 father, came forward and offered to assist 
 him but all to no avail. He refused as 
 sistance declaring it the chastening hand 
 of God, to prepare him to depart to his 
 long home. Oppression of spirits brought 
 on physical debility, and the winds of the 
 succeeding autumn sung a dirge over his 
 grave. 
 
 A father and husband dead a brother 
 and son away, perhaps dead also made 
 the home of Lilian and her mother a house 
 of mourning indeed ; and what they suf 
 fered for the next two years, I must leave 
 to the imaginations of those who have felt 
 a similar visitation of the hand of Provi 
 dence. 
 
 After paying the debts of the estate, a 
 remnant of property remained, to which a 
 few friends, on pretence they owed the de 
 ceased for this favor or that, generously 
 added more ; so that, although compara 
 tively poor, they were in a measure above 
 want. They left their fine mansion, to re 
 side in a small but pleasant house, owned 
 by my father, but for which he would re 
 ceive no rent. Here they remained for 
 eighteen months, laboring under a weight 
 df affliction which those only can know 
 who have lost friends by death,, been sud 
 denly reduced from affluence to poverty, 
 and seen the cold, stinging look of scorn 
 and contempt upon the lips of those heart 
 less beings who were wont to play the 
 fawning sycophant, and utter words of 
 flattery and deceit as worthless as them 
 selves. 
 
 During the. winter of 1841-42, much was 
 aid concerning Oregon ; and, as general 
 ly happens with every new place to which 
 
 public attention becomes particularly di 
 rected, there were not lacking exaggerated 
 accounts, which set it forth as the real El 
 Dorado of the world. Whether these owed 
 their origin to the prolific brains of certain 
 romantic editors,- or to the more designing 
 ones of speculators, or to both combined, 
 (the most probable) matters not ; but the 
 effect was to set on foot a tide of emigra 
 tion, which, had it continued to the pres 
 ent time, without check, \\ould have made 
 Oregon a populous country. 
 
 Among those who had caught this 
 "western fever," as it is frequently not 
 inappropriately termed, were a few wealthy 
 farmers in the vicinity of Boston, with one 
 family of whom Mrs. Huntly had an inti 
 mate acquaintance. Being on a visit there 
 in the winter, she soon learned, much to 
 her surprise, that they were already make 
 ing preparations to start, on the opening 
 of spring, for this great El Dorado this 
 Ultima Tltule of western emigration. Sev 
 eral of their acquaintances were going to 
 join them, and, above all, an eccentric 
 lady of wealth and refinement, who, with 
 her beautiful daughter, had for the past 
 year been the lioness and belle of tlit 
 aristocratic and fashionable circles of Bos 
 ton. Of this lady who was known as 
 Madame Mortimer, as also her daughter, 
 who had received the subriquet of Belle 
 Eva, the latter being her Christian name 
 Mrs. Huntly had more than once heard ; 
 and it was with no little surprise, as may 
 readily be imagined, she now learned of 
 her determination to venture upon such a 
 long, tedious, and dangerous journey ; and 
 she mentally said, "When such a person 
 age resolves to leave all the allurements of 
 civilization, there must be something worth 
 going for;" and this, probably, proved 
 one of the strongest arguments to induce 
 her to make one of the party herself. In 
 addition to this, her country friends were 
 enthusiastic on the subject of Oregon, of 
 which they had received the most glowing, 
 and of course exaggerated accounts, and 
 were eager in urging her to join them. 
 Oregon City a name which sounded well 
 to the ear, was to be their destination. Of 
 this they already had maps, whereon the 
 beautiful streets and squares looked very 
 enticing. Here each and all were to 
 make their fortune ; and in the visionary 
 
114 
 
 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR, 
 
 jf the moment, they, overlooked 1 
 the sober fact, that Oregon City then ex 
 isted on the map only, drawn up by some 
 speculator, and that its handsome streets ' 
 and squar- s were simply imaginary loea- ' 
 tions in an utter wilderness. 
 
 But why prolong why enter into de- ' 
 tail of the hundred little causes which. ! 
 combined, decided Mrs. Huntly (a lady: 
 \vho-e main faults were an enthusiastic 
 love of new projects, an overweening con 
 fidence in her own judgment, and a wilful 
 adherence to her own decisions, right or ' 
 in joining this ill-timed expedi- 
 
 tion, contrary to the advice of her friends 
 and of Lilian the latter of whom con 
 sented to accompany her that she might 
 not be separated from her only parent. 
 Enough, that she had so decided ; and 
 that early in the spring succeeding, hav 
 ing disposed of all her effects, she and 
 Lilian, in company with Madame and Eva 
 Mortimer, (whom the fashionable world 
 of course considered insane,) and some 
 eurht or ten families, had set out on their 
 
 O ' 
 
 long journey to the far, Far West. 
 
 And here, apropos of Madame Morti 
 mer and her lovely daughter, of whom 
 much remains to be said at no distant) 
 period. Although they had appeared in 
 the, fashionable circles of Boston, reputed 
 wealthy, nothing of their private history 
 was known ; and of course, as regarded 
 them, curiosity was excited to a great de 
 gree, but without avail. They had been 
 met among the bon ton of New York, and | 
 invited to Boston. They had accepted 
 the invitation, had passed the ordeal of 
 fashionable criticism, had conducted them 
 selves on all occasions with strict propriety, : 
 and had departed, right in the face of all 
 the gossips, without a single one being the 
 wiser for his or her inquiries. 
 
 As to who and what they were, and 
 how connected with the foregoing and 
 succeeding events of this life-history, the 
 reader who continues to the end of the 
 narrative will doubtless be enlightened. 
 
 [t is ne-'idless for me to touch upon the 
 jouiney of my friends westward. Like 
 all emigrants who seek Oregon for a hciie, 
 they had experienced severe trials n-nd 
 vicissitudes, which upon them had fallen 
 the more heavily, from being the nrst 
 hardships they had e^er known. Some 
 
 three or four days previous to my joining 
 them, Mrs. Huntly had been taken sick; 
 and although Lilian had been greatly 
 alarmed from the first, yet with the others 
 the matter had not been thought serious, 
 until the evening in question, when her 
 symptoms had ta^en an unfavorable turn. 
 Having no doctor among them, application 
 for one had been made by Lilian to some 
 of the trappers who chanced to he pass 
 ing and this, providentially, had brought 
 us once more together, after the long and 
 eventful separation of more than two 
 years. 
 
 Having now, reader, put you in posses 
 sion of facts important for you to know, I 
 will return from my digression, and go 
 on with my narrative. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 RECOVER FROM MT PARALYSIS THE IN 
 VALID CAUSE OF ILLNESS REMEDY 
 
 HAPPY RESULTS JOY OF LILIAN AH 
 
 EVASION FAMILIAR FACES STRANGB 
 
 MEETING REFLECTIONS. 
 
 IT was several minutes before 1 recov 
 ered from my paralysis ; and this was 
 doubtless much accelerated by Teddy, 
 who, having tried various ways to restore 
 me, at last threw hi-s arms around my 
 neck, and placing his mouth close to my 
 ear, shouted : 
 
 " I say, your honor, is it dead ye is, 
 now or is it dead ye's jist agoing to be 
 by the way ye's stare so, and says nothing 
 at all, at all ! " 
 
 With a start, as if suddenly awakened 
 from a dream, I looked around me, per 
 ceived myself the center of all eyes, and 
 heard my name several times pronounced, 
 coupled with that of Lilian, as here and 
 there one^ who had gained the secret of 
 our strange behavior, sought to explain it 
 to others. To most, my name was already 
 familiar, as the companion of young Hunt- 
 ly, and son of the wealthy Leighton of 
 Boston and this, probably, had no ten 
 dency to lessen curiosity. 
 
 My tirst. feeling on regaining myself, (if 
 I may so express it) was one of confusion, 
 that I had so publicly laid myself open to 
 gossip ; my second, indignation at being 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 113 
 
 BO stared at ; my third, alarm as to what 
 mio-ht be the effect of all this upon Mrs. 
 Huntly ; and to her I immediately turned, 
 without a word to the others. Perhaps 
 the reader, if a lover, is surprised that 
 my first alarm was not for Lilian. Ay ! 
 but, dear sir, I saw at a glance that Lilian 
 was in good hands, and in a fair way of 
 recovery, and it would have been injudi 
 cious, at that moment, to draw, any more 
 ittention to her. 
 
 Mrs. Huntly I found lying upon a fea 
 ther bed, in a large, covered wagon, un 
 derneath which was attached a furnace for 
 warming it ; so that, all things considered, 
 the patient was more comfortably situated 
 than I had expected to find her. 
 
 In appearance, she had altered much 
 since I last saw her. Her naturally rather 
 florid complexion, and full, round face, had 
 given place to pallor and thinness, and 
 here and there I could trace deep lines of 
 care ; but I failed to note a single symp 
 tom portending immediate danger. Grief, 
 fatigue of travel, and many anxieties of 
 mind, together with a touch of influenza, 
 had brought on a splenetic affection, some 
 thing like what is vulgarly termed " hypo." 
 She had fancied herself very ill, and in fact 
 nigh unto death ; and I saw at once, that 
 could she be persuaded the crisis had 
 passed, and that the danger was over, she 
 would speedily recover and upon this I 
 acted with decision. The cause of her 
 grief and of her being here I did not 
 then know for the information which I 
 have given the reader on the subject, was 
 not oL tained till afterward and I saw it 
 would not d j to question her. It was ne- 
 cessarj I should appear cheerful, whether 
 I felt so or not ; and accordingly 1 ap- j 
 proached her with a smile. Instantly her 
 eye brightened as it met mine, and I per 
 ceived, to my great satisfaction, that the 
 alarm occasioned by the swoon of Lilian, 
 had proved beneficial, in drawing her 
 thoughts from herself to another, and 
 arousing all her dormant faculties. Ex 
 tending her hand as I approached, she 
 said, with a sigh : 
 
 ' Ah ! Francis, I never thought we 
 should meet thus." 
 
 'True,"I replied,"! had thought to meet 
 you under other circumstances though I 
 presume all has happened for the best?" 
 
 " You find me very low, do you not 1 " 
 
 " You have been ill," 1 answered, em 
 phasising the word have ; " but everything 
 I see has turned in your favor." 
 
 " How !" she exclaimed, quickly, rais 
 ing her head, and fixing her eyes intently 
 upon mine ; " would you imply that I am 
 not in a dangerous condition ? " 
 
 " I would not only imply it," I rejoined, 
 with energy, pretending to judge by her 
 pulse, " but I will assert it as an indis 
 putable fact. If in a week from this you 
 are not as well as you ever were in your 
 life, I will give you leave to call rue an 
 imposter." 
 
 " Really, Francis, you surprise me ! " 
 she said, with animation. " In fact, I be 
 lieve I do feel better. But I have been 
 sick you admit that ? " 
 
 " 0, most certainly," I said, rejoiced to 
 perceive the beneficial effects of my men 
 tal prescription. "You have been verj 
 sick, and within an hour have been riigh 
 unto death ; but thank God ! the crisis has 
 passed, and you have nothing to do now 
 but recover as fast as possible." 
 
 " But what is, or has been my ail 
 ment ? ' ' 
 
 Here I remembered the suggestion of 
 Teddy, and quickly mumbled over a long 
 string of Latin names, with scientific ex 
 planations, much to the satisfaction of 
 everybody but myself. The spectators 
 who had crowded around to hear what 1 
 had to say^-being, with but two or three 
 exceptions, good honest farmers and farm 
 ers' wives nodded approvals to each 
 other, and gave me many a respectful 
 glance, equivalent to telling me, that rny 
 first case, without a single dose, had, with 
 them, established my reputation as a skill 
 ful physician. 0, the humbug of big 
 sounding words ! I would advise doctors 
 and lawyers to use them on all occa 
 sions. 
 
 Xe\vs of my decision, regarding the pa 
 tient, iiew rapidly from one to another 
 lighting each countenance, before gloomy, 
 with a smile of pleasure until it reached 
 the ear of Lilian, who, just recovering from 
 the effects of her swoon, uttered a cry of 
 joy, and, much to the surprise and satis 
 faction of those engaged in restoring her, 
 suddenly sprang away from them and 
 rushed to her mother. 
 
THE PRAIRIE F L OW E R ; OR, 
 
 " O, mollier," she cried, " I have heard 
 ood tidings ! " 
 
 O 
 
 " All true, every word," returned her 
 mother, gaily. "My physician lias pro 
 nounced me out of danger;" and slie 
 playfully pointed to me. 
 
 " God be praised ! " cried Lilian fervent 
 ly. "What a miracle is this ! and how it 
 relieves my anguished heart ! " 
 
 Then turning upon me her sweet, p;ile, 
 lovely countenance her full, soft, blue 
 eyes, moist with tears she partly extend 
 ed her hand, and gasped my name. 
 
 The next instant, regardless of the time, 
 place, and the presence of others, she was 
 clasped in my arms, strained to my heav 
 ing breast, and my lips were pressed to 
 hers in the holy kiss of mutual love. It 
 was a blissful moment, notwithstanding- 
 all we had both suffered. But it was a 
 moment only ; for the next she sprang 
 away, blushing and abashed at what she 
 doubtless considered her own boldness. 
 
 "You're a wonderful docther, your 
 honor," whispered Teddy in my ear. 
 i' Faith ! ye jist looks at 'em, and jabbers 
 a few Lath in names, and they're betther'n 
 they iver was afore they've time to know 
 what ailed 'em, jist and, troth ! a hug 
 ging ye at that, too, the purtiest one 
 among 'em. Is it knowing thim ye is- or 
 does the likes of her kiss by raason of yees 
 being a docthor ? Jabers ! it's what I'd 
 like done to mesilf, no\v, in any pertishion." 
 
 " Hush ! Teddy. These" are the sis 
 ter and mother of my lost friend." 
 
 " Howly St. Path rick in the morning ! 
 ye don't say ! " exclaimed Teddy, stag 
 gering back with surprise. 
 
 " Hush ! " I whispered in his ear, catch 
 ing him by the arm, with a grip sufficient 
 to impress the importance of my words. 
 " Not a syllable concerning Huntly, as 
 
 " O / ' 
 
 you value your life ! ' 
 
 " Och ! " returned Teddy, placing his 
 finger to his lips, winking his eye, and 
 nodding his head " I'm dumb as a dead 
 nager, I is." 
 
 This caution was not made any too soon; 
 for the next moment Mrs. Huntly exclaim 
 ed: 
 
 " But, Francis, where is my son where 
 is Charles that he does not make his ap 
 pearance ? " 
 
 " O, yes, my brother?" cried Lilian. 
 
 I was suddenly seized with a serious fit 
 of coughing, so as to gain time for a reply. 
 It would not do to let them know the true 
 state of the case, and I could not think of 
 telling them a falsehood. A happy thought 
 struck me, and I answered : 
 
 " Charles is not with me." 
 
 " Indeed ! Where is lie, then? " cried 
 both in a breath. 
 
 " We parted in California ; I left him 
 going eastward ; and, for what I know, he 
 may be now in Boston." 
 
 " God help him, then, when he hears 
 the awful news, and finds himself home 
 less and friendless, poor boy ! " cried Mrs, 
 Huntly, with a burst of grief, in which 
 Lilian joined. 
 
 I how inquired what had happened, and 
 learned, in the course of conversation, 
 much of that which I have already given 
 the reader. 
 
 " Poor Charles ! " I sighed to myself, 
 " it is well if thou art dead. Better be 
 dead, than return to thy once happy home, 
 only to find thy friends gone, and thyself 
 a beggar ! " 
 
 With Lilian and her mother, in their 
 misfortunes, I sympathized deeply ; but 
 fearing these saddening thoughts mighl 
 prove injurious to Mrs. Huntly, I hastened 
 to console her by saying : 
 
 " We should bear in mind that all art 
 born to die ; that riches are unstable ; and 
 that whatever happens, is always for the 
 best, though we be not able to see it at 
 the time." 3 
 
 " That I believe to be the true philoso 
 phy of life," said a middle-aged lady at my 
 side, whom, with her daughter, a meet 
 companion for Lilian, I had more than 
 ence noticed, as possessing superior ac 
 complishments ; but, under the excitement 
 [ was laboring, I had failed to closely scan 
 the features of either. I now turned at 
 once to the speaker, and was immediately 
 introduced, by Lilian, to Madame Morti 
 mer and her daughter Eva. 
 
 " Strange ! " I said to myself, as, bow 
 ing to each, I became struck with the 
 familiarity of their features. " I have 
 seen these faces before, methinks but 
 where I cannot tell." 
 
 The name, however, perplexed me for 
 I had no remembrance of ever befcro be 
 ing introduced to a Mortimer. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 117 
 
 "Your countenance seems familiar," I 
 unid, addressing the elder lady. 
 
 " And so does yours, sir ! " she replied ; 
 " and for the last half hour, I have been 
 trying to recall where I have seen you 
 but in vain." 
 
 Suddenly the whole truth flashed upon 
 me. 
 
 "Were you not in New York with your 
 daughter, some two years since?" I in 
 quired, eagerly. 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " At the National Theatre, on the night 
 it was burned ? " 
 
 "I was." 
 
 " Did not some one rescue your daugh 
 ter from the flames ? " 
 
 " Good heavens ! yes ! I remember now 
 I remember!" she exclaimed, a good 
 deal agitated. " It was you, sir you ! I 
 thought I knew those features ! " and exci 
 ted by powerful emotions, she seized both 
 my hands in hers, and pressing them 
 warmly, uttered a " God bless you ! " 
 while her eyes filled with tears of grati 
 tude. Eva was too much affected to trust 
 her voice in the utterance of a single word 
 but her look spoke volumes. 
 
 What a strange combination of startling 
 e^sents had this night revealed to me ! 
 How. mysteriously had Providence ar 
 ranged and put them together for some 
 great design ! Who could have imagined 
 that the mere act of saving a fellow crea 
 ture's life a stranger at that, in a strange 
 
 " . 
 
 city and leaving her without knowing her 
 name, or even her residence, for a long 
 journey of many thousand miles was to 
 nave a direct bearing upon my future des 
 tiny, and that of my friend ? Yet such 
 was the fact ; and however unimportant 
 the incident might have appeared at the 
 time to the reader however irrelative to 
 the main story yet on that very circum 
 stance, unknown to any, was depending 
 many of the important events which fol 
 lowed those already described, and which 
 in due time will be given. 
 
 It was with sensations peculiar to each, 
 that these matters were narrated and com 
 mented upon for the next two hours ; and 
 doubtless not one who heard the strange 
 and romantic story of how I saved the life 
 of Eva Mortimer, but felt his most trivial 
 tot to result from the hidden design of a 
 
 Higher Power. As for myself, such a 
 .chaos of ideas crowded my brain, as made 
 it impossible for me to describe what I 
 thought, or what feeling had the prepon 
 derance, unless it were a mingling of plea 
 sure and sadness. But one thing seemed 
 wanting to make me joyful ; and that, 
 aks ! was my friend. Had he been pre 
 sent, notwithstanding all adverse circum 
 stances, my heart would have bounded 
 with rapture. And he ! what would have 
 been his feelings, thus to have met, in pro- 
 pria personce, the idol of his dreams ! 
 thus to have been placed tete-a-tete with 
 Eva Mortimer the beautiful unknown! 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 STANDING SENTINEL DROWSINESS INTER 
 RUPTION SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF PRAI 
 RIE FLOWER HER WARNING, SURPRISE, 
 
 AGITATION AND ABRUPT DEPARTURE 
 
 ALARM THE CAMP HOSTILE PREPARA 
 TIONS ATTACK REPULSE VICTORY 
 
 ARRIVAL IN OREGON CONCLUSION. 
 
 IT was late in the night, and all had be 
 come still in the encampment. The ani 
 mals consisting of mules, horses, oxen 
 and cows had been driven together and 
 tethered, and were taking their repose. 
 In the area, formed by the wagons, two 
 fires were burning, at one of which sat 
 Teddy and myself, half dozing, with our 
 rifles resting against our shoulders. We 
 had volunteered our services as sentinels 
 for the night but our watch could hardly 
 be termed vigilant. In the surrounding 
 vehicles, the emigrants were already giv- 
 i ing evidence of that sound sleep which 
 indicates health and weariness, and a ces 
 sation of the physical and mental faculties. 
 I was, as I said before, in a half dozing 
 state. I had been conning over the many 
 singular pranks of fortune connected with 
 myself, and particularly the wonderful 
 revelations of the last six or eight hours. 
 I had been musing upon the complicated 
 web of man's existence and already had 
 my thoughts began to wander as in a 
 dream. 
 
 A rumbling sound, like the roaring ot a 
 distant waterfall caught my ear. Gradu 
 ally it grew louder and nearer, until 1 
 
118 
 
 THE PRAIRIL rLOWER; OR, 
 
 fancied I could detect the pattering of a 
 horse's feet upon the hard earth. Nearer 
 and nearer it came, and I found my im 
 pression confirmed. It was a horse at full 
 speed but what could it mean ? Sud 
 denly Teddy sprang up, and tightly 
 grasped his rifle. We now both darted 
 outside the circle of wagons: By the dim I 
 light we beheld a horse and rider rapidly ! 
 dashing up the valley. The next moment 
 the beast was reined in to a dead halt, 
 some twenty yards distant. 
 
 " Who goes there ? " I cried. 
 
 " A friend," was the answer, in a clear, 
 silvery voice. " Be on your guard, or you 
 will be surprised by Indians ! " 
 
 Heavens ! I should know those tones ! 
 Could it be possible ! 
 
 " Prairie Flower ! " I called. 
 
 " Ha ! who are you ? " was the answer ; 
 and the next moment the coal black pony, 
 and his beautiful, mysterious rider, stood 
 by my side. 
 
 " Prairie Flower ! and do we indeed 
 meet again !" 
 
 "Who are you?" said she, bending 
 down to scrutinize my features. " Ha ! is 
 it indeed possible ! " she continued, with 
 no little agitation, as she recognised rr.c. 
 " How you have altered ! I I but I 
 have no time to talk ! I must not be seen 
 here. It would cost me my life. I may 
 see you again. Be on your guard ! How 
 strange ! I never thought to see you again. 
 I must go ! " 
 
 These sentences were uttered rapidly, 
 almost incoherently, while the voice of the 
 speaker trembled, and there seemed a 
 wildness in her manner. On concluding, 
 she tightened her rein as if to depart but 
 still lingered as if to add something more. 
 
 "Heaven bless you, Prairie Flower! 
 you are always seeking the good of others." 
 
 She sighed, turned her head away, and 
 strove to say, carelessly : 
 
 " Your friend I I is well is he ? " 
 
 " Alas ! I cannot answer." 
 
 " Ha ! what ! how ! " she cried, quickly, 
 turning full upon me, and grasping my 
 arm, which chanced to be resting on the 
 neck of her pony. " Explain ! " and I felt 
 her grasp tighten. 
 
 I hurriedly related our last parting. 
 
 For. some moments she did not reply, 
 while her whole frame trembled violently. 
 
 At length she withdrew her hand, tight 
 ened the rein again, and gasped the singla 
 word, 
 
 " Farewell ! " 
 
 Ere I had time for another syllable, her 
 horse was speeding away like the wind ; 
 and ere I had recovered from my surprise, 
 both were lost in the darkness. 
 
 So sudden had all this happened, that 
 I felt completely bewildered. Was I 
 dreaming ? A word from Teddy aroused 
 me. Despatching him to the trappers, to 
 ask their assistance, I flew back to the 
 larger encampment and gave the alarm. 
 Instantly the whole camp was in commo 
 tion : and amid the screams of women and 
 children, the men grasped their arms, and 
 sprung from their coverts excited and pale, 
 but ready to meet danger without flinching, 
 in defence of those whose lives they prized 
 above their own. 
 
 I hurried round the camp to quiet the 
 fears of the weaker members, by telling 
 them there was little or no danger that 
 the Indians, if they came at all, finding us 
 ready to receive them, would not risk an 
 attack. In this, much to my surprise, I 
 was shortly aided by Lilian and Eva, both 
 of whom displayed a heroic coolness, and 
 presence of mind, and fearlessness of dan 
 ger, fur which, among all the virtues I had 
 allowed them, I had given them no credit 
 whatever. Had I been required, before 
 this event, to select the most timid of the 
 party, I should have pointed them out 
 first. Modest, unassuming, retiring in 
 their manners, weak in physical powers, 
 unused to hardships and dangers, with a 
 superior refinement in thought and feeling 
 I had supposed them the first to shrink 
 at anv alarm. Judge of my astonishment, 
 then, when I saw them gliding over the 
 earth, as over a soft carpet, and, with 
 scarcely an appearance of fear, by their 
 acts and language, shaming the more 
 frightened to silence. The arrival of the 
 trappers, too well armed and their 
 seeming indifference to danger, reassured 
 all in a measure, and served to restore 
 order and quiet. 
 
 Hastily organizing, we marched outside 
 the wagons, and took up our position so as 
 to watch and guard any point of compass, 
 not knowing at which the foe might make 
 his appearance and onset. 
 
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 
 
 119 
 
 All relapsed into silence, in which man 
 ner an hour was passed, and we were be 
 ginning tu think the alarm false, when one 
 of the mt'U espied a dark object, as he fan 
 cied, slowly nearing him. 
 
 Without a second thought, crack went 
 his rifle, and instantly, as if by magic, a 
 dark spot to the north of us became peo 
 pled by some fifty savages, who, finding 
 themselves discovered, and doubtless think 
 ing this the alarm of the sentinel, uttered 
 frightful yells, and sprang forward, in a 
 body. Rushing to the point of attack, we 
 haslily formed a line, and placing our rifles 
 to our shoulders, silently waited until not 
 more than twenty yards divided us from 
 the main body of our enemies. 
 
 " Fire ! " cried a voice ; and instantly a 
 dozen rifles poured their deadly contents 
 among the dusky horde, with good effect, 
 as could be told by several frightful groans 
 of pain. 
 
 This was a reception the savages had 
 not counted on, and they in turn became 
 nlanned. Suddenly pausing, they uttered 
 yells of dismay, and discharging their 
 pieces at random, the balls of which whis 
 tled past us without a single injury, they 
 turned and fled precipitately. The victory 
 was ours, and to Prairie Flower we owed 
 our lives. The remainder of the night we 
 kept to our arms, but were not again dis 
 turbed, and by sunrise the whole party 
 was on the move up the mountains. 
 
 As I could not think of parting with my 
 friends (above all with Lilian) in the wil 
 derness, I resolved to accompany them to 
 their destination; and then to to I 
 scarcely knew what. Teddy of course 
 went with me, and the trappers, out of 
 friendship, bore us company many days. 
 
 1 shall not weary you, reader, 'with a 
 detail of all the little incidents of our tedi 
 ous progress to Oregon city. Suffice, that 
 it w<is such as all emigrants experience in 
 H greater or less degree, and was attended 
 with a succession of scenes similar to those 
 described throughout these pages. As I 
 had predicted, the health of Mrs. Huntly 
 was gradually restored; and within ten 
 days from the commencement of her con- 
 Yalesc:nce, she declared herself as well as 
 at any period of her life, and that the 
 word of her young doctor, as she jokingly 
 termed rnt, was equal in eft'ect to the 
 
 combined virtues of the whole materia 
 medico,. 
 
 The return of Mrs. Huntly's strength 
 and spirits, brought pleasuie to the eye 
 and bloom to the cheek of Lilian, which 
 my daily presence, as I was vain enough 
 to flatter myself, did not tend to dissipate. 
 
 Be that as it may, (and I leave the 
 reader to judge) this long journey, so full 
 of hardship and peril, however unpleas 
 ant it might have proved to her and to 
 others, I must ever look back to with 
 pleasure, as one of the happiest periods of 
 my so far eventful life. 
 
 Crossing the Rocky Mountains at th 
 well known South Pass, we continued on 
 the regular Oregon route passed Fort 
 Hall went down the Snake river and over 
 the Salmon Mountains to Fort Boise 
 through the country of Shoshones, or 
 Snake Indians, over the Blue Mountains to 
 Fort Walla Walla, on the Columbia down 
 the Columbia, over the Cascade range, to 
 Oregon City, on the pleasant little Willa 
 mette where we all safely arrived about 
 the middle of December. 
 
 At this period, as I before remarked, 
 Oregon City existed only in name being 
 with the exception of a few log houses, 
 (erected during the summer and fall pre 
 vious, by a few emigrants who had reach 
 ed here in advance of our party,) a com 
 plete wilderness. The appearance of the 
 place, so different from what they had 
 expected to find it, disheartened my wor 
 thy friends not a little ; and had such a 
 thing then been possible, I believe they 
 would at once have returned to their native 
 land. But this was out of the question; 
 there was no help for their oversight now, 
 only by making the best of a bad bargain ; 
 and so, after having grumbled to their 
 hearts' content wished Oregon for the 
 thousandth time at the bottom of the sea, 
 and themselves b^ck home as many they 
 set to work in earnest, to provide them 
 selves homes for the winter, declaring that 
 spring should see them on their way to the 
 States. 
 
 With proper energy, properly directed, 
 a great deal may be accomplished in a very 
 short time ; and in less than two weeka 
 from their earnest commencement, no lesa 
 than eight or ten cabins were added to the 
 few already there. In these the different 
 
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER. 
 
 families removed, Teddy and I taking up 
 our abode in that appropriated to Mrs. 
 Huntly. 
 
 Although without any effects save such 
 as had been brought with them, and short 
 of provisions also, yet, by one means and 
 another, all managed to get through the 
 winter as comfortably as could be expect 
 ed ; and instead of preparing to return, 
 spring found the majority of the new set 
 tlers entering lands, determined on making 
 this their future residence, be the conse 
 quences what they might. 
 
 Some three or four, among whom was 
 Madame Mortimer and her daughter, were 
 still disaffected, and would gladly have re 
 traced their steps ; but they could not iind 
 companions enough to make the journey 
 safe, and therefore, against their will, were 
 forced to remain. 
 
 Oregon City I found beautifully located 
 on the eastern bank of the Willamette, 
 and, from what I could judge, destined, at 
 no very distant period, to become the 
 great mart of the Far West. Here I re 
 mained through the winter, and as it 
 proved open and mild, employed my time 
 in hunting and fishing, and conversing with 
 the only being I truly loved. Had my 
 friend been with me, I should have looked 
 upon the place as a perfect paradise ; but 
 thoughts of him of what might be his 
 fate would steal over me in my most joy 
 ous moments, and cloud my brow with 
 gloom. These singular changes were 
 noted by Lilian and others with feelings 
 of surprise, and frequently was I ques 
 tioned by the former regarding them but 
 I ever avoided a dirert answer. 
 
 Neither Lilian nor her mother knew the 
 true cause of Charles Huntly's absence ; 
 and though I often meditated telling them, 
 yet, when it came to the point, I ever 
 shrunk from the painful task of making 
 both wretched. He miglit be living , and 
 the bare possibility of such a thing, I 
 thought sufficient to justify me in keeping 
 them in blissful ignorance of what I sup 
 posed to be his real fate. Both fondly 
 
 anticipated seeing him the coming sum 
 mer not doubting he Lad gone east, and 
 that so soon as he should receive tidings 
 of their locality, he would set out to join 
 them. I had no such hopes but I dared 
 not tell them so. 
 
 IT was a lovely day in the spring of 
 1843. On the banks of the romantic 
 Willamette, under the shade of a large 
 tree, J was seated. By my side with 
 her sweet face averted and crimson with 
 blushes, her right hand clasped in mine, 
 her left unconsciously toying with a beau 
 tiful flower, which failed to rival her own 
 fair self sat Lilian Huntly. It was one 
 of those peculiar moments which are dis 
 tinctly refttembered through life. I had 
 just offered her my hand and fortune, and 
 was waiting, with all the trembling impa 
 tience of a lover, to hear the result. 
 
 "Say, Lilian sweet Lilian! will you 
 be mine ? " 
 
 Her lily hand trembled I felt its vel 
 vet-like pressure but her tongue had lost 
 the power of utterance. It was enough ; 
 and the next moment she was- strained to 
 my heart, with a joy too deep for words. 
 
 " And when sahll it be when shall my 
 happiness be consummated, dear Lilian ? " 
 I at length ventured to ask. 
 
 For a time she did not reply ; then rais 
 ing her angelic face, and fastening her 
 soft beaming eye, moist with tears of joy, 
 upon mine, she said, in a low, sweet, trem 
 ulous tone : 
 
 " On the day when we are all made glad 
 by the presence of my brother." 
 
 " Alas ! " groaned I, mentally, " that 
 day may never come ! " 
 
 THE fate of Charles Hi- tly of th* 
 mysterious Prairie Flower *id others 
 will be found in " LENI LEOTI OR, AD 
 VENTURES IN THE FAR WES* - -A 
 TO PRAIRIE FLOWER." 
 
 THE KITD OF PRAIRIE FLOWBB. 
 

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 2ft ecu '4s. 
 
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 8vo. pap < 
 
 EHEAD'S 
 
 WORKS. 
 
 
 
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 <leliears Travels: J T> , thoSecoi- 
 
 I*ric* 
 
 The Fettiaie/ Spy . 
 Pri ^ 2,> ceki 
 
 
 
 "k'he Fair Rebel 
 
 The Traitoi ; 
 
 8v<3 
 cents. 
 
 J t RanditM .if ti&c 
 
 ot 
 
 l*r:ce 
 
 The 
 
 The 
 Jrice *2ft cents. 
 
 int 
 
 a cents. 
 
 Price 5O eel? 
 
 The Unlino\ti 
 
 an<! 
 , cents. 
 
 has 
 
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 or. .<i, by 
 
 i* !' ''.&vo, 
 
 Price '25 cento. 
 
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 '' our read*.. 1 
 heaHy, genuine laugh, th :;iy to buy 
 
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