If one is anxious to place himself in a situation where the hazardous and the ludicrous are combined in about equal proportions, let him get upon a vicious mule, with a snaffle bit, and try to drive her through the woods down a slope of 45 degrees.  Let him have on a long rifle, a buckskin frock with long fringes, and a head of long hair.  These latter appendages will be caught every moment and twitched away in small portions by the twigs, which will also whip him smartly across the face, while the large branches above thump him on the head.  His mule, if she be a true one, will alternately stop short and dive violently forward, and his position upon her back will be somewhat diversified and extraordinary.  At one time he will clasp her affectionately, to avoid the blow of a bough overhead; at another, he will throw himself back and fling his knee forward against the side of her neck, to keep it from being crushed between the rough bark of a tree and the equally unyielding ribs of the animal herself.  Reynal was cursing incessantly during the whole way down.  Neither of us had the remotest idea where we were going; and though I have seen rough riding, I shall always retain an evil recollection of that five minutes’ scramble.

At last we left our troubles behind us, emerging into the channel of a brook that circled along the foot of the descent; and here, turning joyfully to the left, we rode in luxury and ease over the white pebbles and the rippling water, shaded from the glaring sun by an overarching green transparency.  These halcyon moments were of short duration.  The friendly brook, turning sharply to one side, went brawling and foaming down the rocky hill into an abyss, which, as far as we could discern, had no bottom; so once more we betook ourselves to the detested woods.  When next we came forth from their dancing shadow and sunlight, we found ourselves standing in the broad glare of day, on a high jutting point of the mountain.  Before us stretched a long, wide, desert valley, winding away far amid the mountains.  No civilized eye but mine had ever looked upon that virgin waste.  Reynal was gazing intently; he began to speak at last: 

“Many a time, when I was with the Indians, I have been hunting for gold all through the Black Hills.  There’s plenty of it here; you may be certain of that.  I have dreamed about it fifty times, and I never dreamed yet but what it came true.  Look over yonder at those black rocks piled up against that other big rock.  Don’t it look as if there might be something there?  It won’t do for a white man to be rummaging too much about these mountains; the Indians say they are full of bad spirits; and I believe myself that it’s no good luck to be hunting about here after gold.  Well, for all that, I would like to have one of these fellows up here, from down below, to go about with his witch-hazel rod, and I’ll guarantee that it would not be long before he would light on a gold mine.  Never mind; we’ll let the gold alone for to-day.  Look at those trees down below us in the hollow; we’ll go down there, and I reckon we’ll get a black-tailed deer.”