About Nine O'clock The Storm Broke, Amid
Absolute Darkness; It Blew A Gale, And Torrents Of Rain Roared Over
The Boundless Expanse Of Open Prairie.
Our tent was filled with mist
and spray beating through the canvas, and saturating everything
within.
We could only distinguish each other at short intervals by
the dazzling flash of lightning, which displayed the whole waste
around us with its momentary glare. We had our fears for the tent;
but for an hour or two it stood fast, until at length the cap gave
way before a furious blast; the pole tore through the top, and in an
instant we were half suffocated by the cold and dripping folds of the
canvas, which fell down upon us. Seizing upon our guns, we placed
them erect, in order to lift the saturated cloth above our heads. In
this disagreeable situation, involved among wet blankets and buffalo
robes, we spent several hours of the night during which the storm
would not abate for a moment, but pelted down above our heads with
merciless fury. Before long the ground beneath us became soaked with
moisture, and the water gathered there in a pool two or three inches
deep; so that for a considerable part of the night we were partially
immersed in a cold bath. In spite of all this, Tete Rouge's flow of
spirits did not desert him for an instant, he laughed, whistled, and
sung in defiance of the storm, and that night he paid off the long
arrears of ridicule which he owed us. While we lay in silence,
enduring the infliction with what philosophy we could muster, Tete
Rouge, who was intoxicated with animal spirits, was cracking jokes at
our expense by the hour together. At about three o'clock in the
morning, "preferring the tyranny of the open night" to such a
wretched shelter, we crawled out from beneath the fallen canvas. The
wind had abated, but the rain fell steadily. The fire of the
California men still blazed amid the darkness, and we joined them as
they sat around it. We made ready some hot coffee by way of
refreshment; but when some of the party sought to replenish their
cups, it was found that Tete Rouge, having disposed of his own share,
had privately abstracted the coffee-pot and drank up the rest of the
contents out of the spout.
In the morning, to our great joy, an unclouded sun rose upon the
prairie. We presented rather a laughable appearance, for the cold
and clammy buckskin, saturated with water, clung fast to our limbs;
the light wind and warm sunshine soon dried them again, and then we
were all incased in armor of intolerable rigidity. Roaming all day
over the prairie and shooting two or three bulls, were scarcely
enough to restore the stiffened leather to its usual pliancy.
Besides Henry Chatillon, Shaw and I were the only hunters in the
party. Munroe this morning made an attempt to run a buffalo, but his
horse could not come up to the game.
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