The Oregon Trail: sketches of prairie and Rocky-Mountain life eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 453 pages of information about The Oregon Trail.
whole aboriginal race of America.  Our journey was in vain and much worse than in vain.  For myself, I was vexed and disappointed beyond measure; as I well knew that a slight aggravation of my disorder would render this false step irrevocable, and make it quite impossible to accomplish effectively the design which had led me an arduous journey of between three and four thousand miles.  To fortify myself as well as I could against such a contingency, I resolved that I would not under any circumstances attempt to leave the country until my object was completely gained.

And where were the Indians?  They were assembled in great numbers at a spot about twenty miles distant, and there at that very moment they were engaged in their warlike ceremonies.  The scarcity of buffalo in the vicinity of La Bonte’s Camp, which would render their supply of provisions scanty and precarious, had probably prevented them from assembling there; but of all this we knew nothing until some weeks after.

Shaw lashed his horse and galloped forward, I, though much more vexed than he, was not strong enough to adopt this convenient vent to my feelings; so I followed at a quiet pace, but in no quiet mood.  We rode up to a solitary old tree, which seemed the only place fit for encampment.  Half its branches were dead, and the rest were so scantily furnished with leaves that they cast but a meager and wretched shade, and the old twisted trunk alone furnished sufficient protection from the sun.  We threw down our saddles in the strip of shadow that it cast, and sat down upon them.  In silent indignation we remained smoking for an hour or more, shifting our saddles with the shifting shadow, for the sun was intolerably hot.



At last we had reached La Bonte’s Camp, toward which our eyes had turned so long.  Of all weary hours, those that passed between noon and sunset of the day when we arrived there may bear away the palm of exquisite discomfort.  I lay under the tree reflecting on what course to pursue, watching the shadows which seemed never to move, and the sun which remained fixed in the sky, and hoping every moment to see the men and horses of Bisonette emerging from the woods.  Shaw and Henry had ridden out on a scouting expedition, and did not return until the sun was setting.  There was nothing very cheering in their faces nor in the news they brought.

“We have been ten miles from here,” said Shaw.  “We climbed the highest butte we could find, and could not see a buffalo or Indian; nothing but prairie for twenty miles around us.”

Henry’s horse was quite disabled by clambering up and down the sides of ravines, and Shaw’s was severely fatigued.

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The Oregon Trail: sketches of prairie and Rocky-Mountain life from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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