We now took our leave of the Lepans and our two white friends, who would fain have accompanied us to the Comanches had there been a chance of returning to civilization through a safe road; as it was, Gabriel, Roche, and I resumed our journey alone.  During two or three days we followed the edge of the wood, every attempt to penetrate into the interior proving quite useless, so thick were the bushes and thorny briers.  Twice or thrice we perceived on some hills, at a great distance, smoke and fires, but we could not tell what Indians might be there encamped.

We had left the Timbers, and had scarcely advanced ten miles in a westerly direction, when a dog of a most miserable appearance joined our company.  He was soon followed by two others as lean and as weak as himself.  They were evidently Indian dogs of the wolf breed, and miserable, starved animals they looked, with the ribs almost bare, while their tongues, parched and hanging downwards, showed clearly the want of water in these horrible regions.  We had ourselves been twenty-four hours without having tasted any, and our horses were quite exhausted.

We were slowly descending the side of a swell in the prairie, when a buffalo passed at full speed, ten yards before us, closely pursued by a Tonquewa Indian (a ferocious tribe), mounted upon a small horse, whose graceful form excited our admiration.  This savage was armed with a long lance, and covered with a cloak of deer-skin, richly ornamented, his long black hair undulating with the breeze.

A second Indian soon followed the first, and they were evidently so much excited with the chase as not to perceive us, although I addressed the last one, who passed not ten yards from me.  The next day we met with a band of Wakoes Indians, another subdivision of the Comanches or of the Apaches, and not yet seen or even mentioned by any traveller.  They were all mounted upon fine tall horses, evidently a short time before purchased at the Mexican settlements, for some of them had their shoes still on their feet.  They immediately offered us food and water, and gave us fresh steeds, for our own were quite broken down, and could scarcely drag themselves along.  We encamped with them that day on a beautiful spot, where our poor animals recovered a little.  We bled them freely, an operation which probably saved them to share with us many more toils and dangers.

The next day we arrived at the Wakoe village, pleasantly-situated upon the banks of a cold and clear stream, which glided through a romantic valley, studded here and there with trees just sufficient to vary the landscape, without concealing its beauties.  All around the village were vast fields of Indian corn and melons; further off numerous herds of cattle, sheep, and horses were grazing; while the women were busy drying buffalo meat.  In this hospitable village we remained ten days, by which time we and our beasts had entirely recovered from our fatigues.