The
greater part of his perilous and solitary work was performed in
darkness. His moccasins were worn to tatters and his feet severely
lacerated. He sat down to eat, however, with the usual equanimity of
his temper not at all disturbed by his misfortune, and my last
recollection before falling asleep was of Shaw, seated cross-legged
before the fire, smoking his pipe. The horse, I may as well mention
here, was found the next morning by Henry Chatillon.
When I awoke again there was a fresh damp smell in the air, a gray
twilight involved the prairie, and above its eastern verge was a
streak of cold red sky. I called to the men, and in a moment a fire
was blazing brightly in the dim morning light, and breakfast was
getting ready. We sat down together on the grass, to the last
civilized meal which Raymond and I were destined to enjoy for some
time.
"Now, bring in the horses."
My little mare Pauline was soon standing by the fire. She was a
fleet, hardy, and gentle animal, christened after Paul Dorion, from
whom I had procured her in exchange for Pontiac. She did not look as
if equipped for a morning pleasure ride. In front of the black,
high-bowed mountain saddle, holsters, with heavy pistols, were
fastened. A pair of saddle bags, a blanket tightly rolled, a small
parcel of Indian presents tied up in a buffalo skin, a leather bag of
flour, and a smaller one of tea were all secured behind, and a long
trail-rope was wound round her neck.
