Identifier: oregontrailsketc04park (find matches)
Title: The Oregon trail; sketches of prairie and Rocky-Mountain life
Year: 1894 (1890s)
Authors: Parkman, Francis, 1823-1893
Subjects: Indians of North America Frontier and pioneer life
Publisher: Boston, Little, Brown, and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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to follow.He was certain that no Indians would meet at the rendez-vous, and said, moreover, that it would be easy to conveyour cart and baggage through the Black Hills. He knew,however, nothing of the matter. Neither he nor any whiteman with us had ever seen the difficult and obscure defilesthrough which the Indians intended to make their way. 1passed them afterwards, and had much ado to force my dis-tressed horse along the narrow ravines, and through chasmswhere daylight could scarcely penetrate. Our cart mightas easily have been driven over the summit of PikesPeak. But of this we were ignorant; and in view of thedifficulties and uncertainties of an attempt to visit therendezvous, we recalled the old proverb, about A birdin the hand, and decided to follow the village. Both camps, the Indians and our own, broke up on themorning of the first of July. I was so weak that the aidof a spoonful of whiskey, swallowed at short intervals,alone enabled me to sit my horse through the short jour-
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THE TRAPPER. ILL-LUCK. 159 aey of that day. For half a mile before us and half amile behind, the prairie was covered far and wide withthe moving throng of savages. The barren, broken plainstretched away to the right and left, and far in front rosethe precipitous ridge of the Black Hills. We pushedforward to the head of the scattered column, passingburdened traineaux, heavily laden pack-horses, gaunt oldwomen on foot, gay young squaws on horseback, restlesschildren running among the crowd, old men striding alongn their white buffalo-robes, and groups of young warriorsmounted on their best horses. Henry Chatillon, lookingbackward over the distant prairie, exclaimed suddenlythat a horseman was approaching, and in truth we couldjust discern a small black speck slowly moving over theface of a distant swell, like a fly creeping on a wall. Itrapidly grew larger as it approached. White man, I blieve, said Henry; look how heride. Indian never ride that way. Yes ; he got rifle onthe saddle befo

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