During our stay at the garrison a change had come over the face of nature. The bright and luxurious summer flowers had disappeared; a growth of yellow and blue, the harbingers of the departing year, supplied their places. Here and there might be seen a single red flower, the survivor of those which had flourished in the summer, shooting up its head amidst clusters of golden-hued blossoms, still lingering, though a stranger among them. The deep richness of foliage which graced the trees had departed, and the brown tinge of autumn was creeping among the leaves. The bright soft green was disappearing from the prairie grass, giving place to a colour of greenish brown. The geese and pelicans had left their lives of solitude, and forming themselves into large flocks, were winging their way to the north; the wind swept over the rustling grass with a moaning sound that spoke strongly of the approach of winter. At this season we commenced our travel. It was late in the afternoon when we reached the spot where the soldiers had encamped. It was on the side of a small prairie hill. Within a few yards of their tents, a scanty run of water stole through the grass; and at the distance of about a hundred yards stood a grove of timber, which supplied the fuel necessary for their night fires. There is but little variety on the prairie. The life of one day is the life of a month; yet there is an excitement about it. The killing of a deer is an era in the day. The appearance of a hunter upon a distant hill would give birth to a thousand speculations, as to his success in the chase. The sight of a deer standing upon an eminence, or reclining in some hollow, was a signal for bustle. There was an intense interest excited, in watching the movements of the hunters, as they stole down upon him. As they drew near every eye was fixed, even the breath was restrained: the animal scents them in the tainted air; the hunters crouch in the tall grass and creep onward; the deer rises to his feet; his nose is raised high in the air; he begins to walk off. Now is the time! Crack!—sounds the rifle. In five minutes, he is far beyond sight, or two hunters are staggering beneath his weight, as they bring him to the camp. The sight of foot prints in the grass would be the foundation of a hundred wild fancies. By whom were they made? by members of what tribe? were they friends or foes? where were they going? was it a war party or a hunting party? These and a hundred other conjectures would be offered, by a knot collected around the suspicious mark, denoting that others besides ourselves had passed in that direction, and that we were not the only beings wandering upon that waste. CHAP. X. THE PARTY OF SAC INDIANS.