only the horses had been found, but that there was fresh meat in
camp--and buffalo veal at that! The other men out horse hunting,
seeing the cattle strung out in traveling shape, soon returned to
their places beside the trailing herd.

We held a due northward course, which we figured ought to carry us
past and at least thirty miles to the westward of the big Indian
encampment. The worst thing with which we had now to contend was the
weather, it having rained more or less during the past day and night,
or ever since we had crossed the Salt Fork. The weather had thrown the
outfit into such a gloomy mood that they would scarcely speak to or
answer each other. This gloomy feeling had been growing on us for
several days, and it was even believed secretly that our foreman
didn't know where he was; that the outfit was drifting and as good as
lost. About noon of the third day, the weather continuing wet with
cold nights, and with no abatement of the general gloom, our men on
point noticed smoke arising directly ahead on our course, in a little
valley through which ran a nice stream of water. When Flood's
attention was directed to the smoke, he rode forward to ascertain the
cause, and returned worse baffled than I ever saw him.

It was an Indian camp, and had evidently been abandoned only that
morning, for the fires were still smouldering. Ordering the wagon to
camp on the creek and the cattle to graze forward till noon, Flood
returned to the Indian camp, taking two of the boys and myself with
him. It had not been a permanent camp, yet showed evidence of having
been occupied several days at least, and had contained nearly a
hundred lean-tos, wickyups, and tepees--altogether too large an
encampment to suit our tastes. The foreman had us hunt up the trail
leaving, and once we had found it, all four of us ran it out five or