Hunting -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- West (U.S.); West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
We were up at an early hour, and Tiger found in the dewy grass not far
from our camp the trail of a very large jaguar, which had prowled round
it during the night and disquieted Trusty. We bathed in the deep clear
river, then breakfasted and set out again. The river flowed westward
through a rather wide vale, bounded on the north by a wood, on our side
by rich prairies, while a range of bald conical shaped lime hills ran
along either side. Judging from its distance from the Leone, this river
could only be Turkey Creek, on whose banks I had spent that stormy night
with the unhappy botanist. We followed its windings westward for several
hours, crossing a number of small streams which came down from the
ravines. The valley was here considerably broader than at the spot where
we passed the night, but in front of us the hills approached each other
again; then the river turned a little westward and afforded a prospect
between the rocks of the western cedar-grown banks of the Rio Grande.
The prairie over which we rode led us to the banks of this large river,
which runs at a depth of at least fifty feet between the widest masses
of rock. At this time it contained very little water, as it does not
begin to swell to any extent till January, and we at once made
preparations to cross it. We selected from the quantity of dry
driftwood, with which the steep bank was covered, pieces of light
cedar-wood, bound them together as a small raft, and anchored it to a
great tree trunk on the bank. We laid our provisions, saddle-bags, and
clothes upon it, and Tiger leapt in the very rapid stream, holding the
loose end of the lasso between his teeth, and swam to an island covered
with willows, which lay about fifty yards from our bank. When he had
swam so far as to haul the lasso taut, I thrust the raft off, and it
rapidly followed the current behind Tiger, who, however, guided it to
this island and landed about two hundred yards lower down. Then he went
to the end of the island, dragging the raft after him, and pulled it
into the calmer water on the other side. Then he threw the lasso over
his shoulders, and easily pulled the raft to the other bank, where he
fastened it to some heavy driftwood. He was soon back by my side. I hung
my holsters over my shoulders, took rifle in hand, and we flew on our
horses down the stream obliquely till we reached the island, which we
soon crossed and guided our horses into the quieter water on the other
side. We landed on the western bank of the river at the moment when
Jack, who had reached the island, uttered a frightful bray of delight,
while looking over at the horses: then he cautiously entered the river
again, and soon trotted up to his comrades, who enjoyed the scanty grass
that grew on the bank while we were dressing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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