humming; but other than this, there was no sight nor sound of life throughout the burning landscape.  The sun rose higher and higher, until the shadows fell almost perpendicularly, and I knew that it must be noon.  It seemed scarcely possible that the animals could be recovered.  If they were not, my situation was one of serious difficulty.  Shaw, when I left him had decided to move that morning, but whither he had not determined.  To look for him would be a vain attempt.  Fort Laramie was forty miles distant, and I could not walk a mile without great effort.  Not then having learned the sound philosophy of yielding to disproportionate obstacles, I resolved to continue in any event the pursuit of the Indians.  Only one plan occurred to me; this was to send Raymond to the fort with an order for more horses, while I remained on the spot, awaiting his return, which might take place within three days.  But the adoption of this resolution did not wholly allay my anxiety, for it involved both uncertainty and danger.  To remain stationary and alone for three days, in a country full of dangerous Indians, was not the most flattering of prospects; and protracted as my Indian hunt must be by such delay, it was not easy to foretell its ultimate result.  Revolving these matters, I grew hungry; and as our stock of provisions, except four or five pounds of flour, was by this time exhausted, I left the camp to see what game I could find.  Nothing could be seen except four or five large curlew, which, with their loud screaming, were wheeling over my head, and now and then alighting upon the prairie.  I shot two of them, and was about returning, when a startling sight caught my eye.  A small, dark object, like a human head, suddenly appeared, and vanished among the thick hushes along the stream below.  In that country every stranger is a suspected enemy.  Instinctively I threw forward the muzzle of my rifle.  In a moment the bushes were violently shaken, two heads, but not human heads, protruded, and to my great joy I recognized the downcast, disconsolate countenance of the black mule and the yellow visage of Pauline.  Raymond came upon the mule, pale and haggard, complaining of a fiery pain in his chest.  I took charge of the animals while he kneeled down by the side of the stream to drink.  He had kept the runaways in sight as far as the Side Fork of Laramie Creek, a distance of more than ten miles; and here with great difficulty he had succeeded in catching them.  I saw that he was unarmed, and asked him what he had done with his rifle.  It had encumbered him in his pursuit, and he had dropped it on the prairie, thinking that he could find it on his return; but in this he had failed.  The loss might prove a very formidable one.  I was too much rejoiced however at the recovery of the animals to think much about it; and having made some tea for Raymond in a tin vessel which we had brought with us, I told him that I would give him two hours for resting before we set out again.  He had eaten nothing that day; but having no appetite, he lay down immediately to sleep.  I picketed the animals among the richest grass that I could find, and made fires of green wood to protect them from the flies; then sitting down again by the tree, I watched the slow movements of the sun, begrudging every moment that passed.