What a rest that was! One who has
never been nearly worn out and starved, down nearly to the point of
death can never know what it is to rest in comfort. No one can tell. It
was like a dream, a sweet, restful dream where troubles would drown
themselves in sleep. How we felt the strength come back to us with that
food and the long draughts of pure clear water.
The miserable dried meat in our knapsacks was put away and this splendid
jerked beef put in its place. The wolves came to our camp and howled in
dreadful disappointment at not getting a meal. Rogers wanted me to shoot
the miserable howlers, but I let them have their concert out, and
thought going without their breakfast must be punishment enough for
them. As our moccasins were worn out we carefully prepared some sinews
from the steer and made new foot gear from the green hide which placed
us in shape for two or three week's walking.
The morning was clear and pleasant. We had our knapsacks filled with
good food we had prepared, and were enjoying the cool breeze which came
up the valley, when we heard faintly the bark of a dog, or at least we
thought we did. If this were true there must be some one living not very
far away and we felt better. I was still very lame and as we started
along the walking seemed to make it worse again, so that it was all I
could do to follow John on the trail down the valley. As we went along a
man and woman passed us some distance on the left, and they did not seem
to notice us, though we were in plain sight.
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