Very much disappointed, we turned our steps homeward. It was dark before we reached the tents. We had gone far, the day had been long, and we had not eaten anything since early morn. But optimistic old Paul said, "The best of hunters often come home like you have. We are not starving, there is plenty in camp, let us be thankful." We could not but be cheered by the old man's words, but even to this day, though thirty years have gone since then, I repent me that I had not taken that shot. About this time my cow presented me with a fine calf, and from thence on we had milk as part of our provender. Of course the calf could not keep up when we moved camp, so an old widow woman, Maria, made a travois, and the calf was placed on it and thus was moved from camp to camp. One day Samson and I set off on horseback to reconnoitre the country down east of where we had been hunting, in order to assure ourselves that the enemy was not in the vicinity. We rode all day, and towards evening, when about to make camp, Samson killed a jumping deer. Next morning we shot a cow elk, and I found her calf, so we concluded that with these we had about all our horses could pack home. I had little Bob, or "Split Ear," as the Indians called him, and I put the two smaller skins and half of the meat of the three animals on him, all the time apologizing to the little fellow for doing so. Then we started for home, leading our loaded steeds. Everything went well until our moccasins gave out. The country we were in was rich in roses. Beautiful tiny prairie rose-bushes, crowded with crimson and pink and white blossoms with their delicate shadings and fragrant aroma, were all around us, and everywhere under us, as our bare and bleeding feet evidenced. Under such conditions we surely had "too much of a good thing." And yet we did not like to leave any of the meat. While we were thus proceeding painfully on our way we came upon a sleeping band of prairie wolves. They had evidently gorged themselves to the full and were now resting. I held both horses, and Samson tiptoed in amongst them as they snored, and fetching his riding-whip down full length across the side of a tremendous she-wolf, he brought out of her a howl of mingled surprise and pain, and then there was a stampede of wolves in every direction that was amusing to witness. But while we laughed heartily and trudged on, the rose-bushes seemed to multiply, and I bethought me of my saddle-blanket, and again apologizing to my horse, I tore a strip from it, and we wound that around our bleeding and bruised feet. Twice I did this, until no more of the blanket could be spared from the horse's back; and when the second wrapping was worn out I again made profound apologies to my horse, and mounted on top of the meat and hides. The sturdy little fellow, nothing daunted, trotted me into camp, I promising to give him many days of absolute rest.