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.

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.

We set out together; and as we approached the bushes, which were at some distance, we found the ground becoming rather treacherous.  We could only get along by stepping upon large clumps of tall rank grass, with fathomless gulfs between, like innumerable little quaking islands in an ocean of mud, where a false step would have involved our boots in a catastrophe like that which had befallen Delorier’s moccasins.  The thing looked desperate; we separated, so as to search in different directions, Shaw going off to the right, while I kept straight forward.  At last I came to the edge of the bushes:  they were young waterwillows, covered with their caterpillar-like blossoms, but intervening between them and the last grass clump was a black and deep slough, over which, by a vigorous exertion, I contrived to jump.  Then I shouldered my way through the willows, tramping them down by main force, till I came to a wide stream of water, three inches deep, languidly creeping along over a bottom of sleek mud.  My arrival produced a great commotion.  A huge green bull-frog uttered an indignant croak, and jumped off the bank with a loud splash:  his webbed feet twinkled above the surface, as he jerked them energetically upward, and I could see him ensconcing himself in the unresisting slime at the bottom, whence several large air bubbles struggled lazily to the top.  Some little spotted frogs instantly followed the patriarch’s example; and then three turtles, not larger than a dollar, tumbled themselves off a broad “lily pad,” where they had been reposing.  At the same time a snake, gayly striped with black and yellow, glided out from the bank, and writhed across to the other side; and a small stagnant pool into which my foot had inadvertently pushed a stone was instantly alive with a congregation of black tadpoles.

“Any chance for a bath, where you are?” called out Shaw, from a distance.

The answer was not encouraging.  I retreated through the willows, and rejoining my companion, we proceeded to push our researches in company.  Not far on the right, a rising ground, covered with trees and bushes, seemed to sink down abruptly to the water, and give hope of better success; so toward this we directed our steps.  When we reached the place we found it no easy matter to get along between the hill and the water, impeded as we were by a growth of stiff, obstinate young birch-trees, laced together by grapevines.  In the twilight, we now and then, to support ourselves, snatched at the touch-me-not stem of some ancient sweet-brier.  Shaw, who was in advance, suddenly uttered a somewhat emphatic monosyllable; and looking up I saw him with one hand grasping a sapling, and one foot immersed in the water, from which he had forgotten to withdraw it, his whole attention being engaged in contemplating the movements of a water-snake, about five feet long, curiously checkered with black and green, who was deliberately swimming across the pool.  There being no stick or stone

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