Culverwell, dead." He did not look much like a dead man. He lay
upon his back with arms extended wide, and his little canteen, made of
two powder flasks, lying by his side. This looked indeed as if some of
our saddest forebodings were coming true. How many more bodies should we
find? Or should we find the camp deserted, and never find a trace of the
former occupants.
We marched toward camp like two Indians, silent and alert, looking out
for dead bodies and live Indians, for really we more expected to find
the camp devastated by those rascals than to find that it still
contained our friends. To the east we could plainly see what seemed to
be a large salt lake with a bed that looked as if of the finest, whitest
sand, but really a wonder of salt crystal. We put the dreary steps
steadily one forward of another, the little mule the only unconcerned
one of the party, ever looking for an odd blade of grass, dried in the
hot dry wind, but yet retaining nourishment, which she preferred.
About noon we came in sight of the wagons, still a long way off, but in
the clear air we could make them out, and tell what they were, without
being able to see anything more. Half a mile was the distance between us
and the camp before we could see very plainly, as they were in a little
depression. We could see the covers had been taken off, and this was an
ominous sort of circumstance to us, for we feared the depredations of
the Indians in retaliation for the capture of their squashes.
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