I Killed A Bull Within Rifle-Shot
Of The Camp; That Night The Wolves Made A Fearful Howling Close At
Hand, And In The Morning The Carcass Was Completely Hollowed Out By
These Voracious Feeders.
After we had remained four days at this camp we prepared to leave it.
We had for our own part about five hundred pounds of dried meat, and
the California men had prepared some three hundred more; this
consisted of the fattest and choicest parts of eight or nine cows, a
very small quantity only being taken from each, and the rest
abandoned to the wolves. The pack animals were laden, the horses
were saddled, and the mules harnessed to the cart. Even Tete Rouge
was ready at last, and slowly moving from the ground, we resumed our
journey eastward. When we had advanced about a mile, Shaw missed a
valuable hunting knife and turned back in search of it, thinking that
he had left it at the camp. He approached the place cautiously,
fearful that Indians might be lurking about, for a deserted camp is
dangerous to return to. He saw no enemy, but the scene was a wild
and dreary one; the prairie was overshadowed by dull, leaden clouds,
for the day was dark and gloomy. The ashes of the fires were still
smoking by the river side; the grass around them was trampled down by
men and horses, and strewn with all the litter of a camp. Our
departure had been a gathering signal to the birds and beasts of
prey; Shaw assured me that literally dozens of wolves were prowling
about the smoldering fires, while multitudes were roaming over the
prairie around; they all fled as he approached, some running over the
sand-beds and some over the grassy plains.
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