erts, and to save him all trouble by guiding him into camp.  The lost pack-horse was an extraordinary animal--a beautiful, golden stallion of vast proportions, some thought as much as thirteen hands high.  Some people would have called him of buckskin color, but we has of that intensely brilliant hue which buckskin assumes when wet and in the shade.  He was one of the animals which, in fording the Yellowstone, managed to flounder into deep water and saturate his pack; and whenever we waded through a slough, he was sure to be the horse that got stalled.  In such cases he invariably waited until the packers, with their patience severely tried, went back and lifted him out by main force.  On this particular occasion, he had proven himself the acrobat of the pack-train by turning a number of somersaults backward, down the hill, pack and all; and when found, was astride a log lengthwise, his feet just touching on either side, but either unable to extricate himself, or too proud and patient to make an effort to do so.  He consequently very resignedly contemplated his position and surroundings.  He was too proud and spirited to betray any emotion, though his situation was undoubtedly distasteful to his feelings.  In war, he might have been a lion; in peace, he was certainly a lamb.  He was just the kind of a horse that, in a race, would have driven every thing else before him.  the pedigree of the beast has not been authentically preserved, but there is good reason to believe that his dam was Rosinante, while he was sired by Baalbec, the horse Mark Twain rode through the Holy Land.  He was dubbed the "Yellowstone Wonder."
    Toward evening Mr. Everts' disappearance excited grave apprehensions.  It would have been extremely difficult for any one to have followed our trail through the dense forests and over the fallen timber.  Besides, Mr. Everts was quite near-sighted.  Every endeavor was made to attract his attention, by firing guns and building fires on prominent points near the camp.  Failing to find him, we changed our camp to the lake-shore, and remained for more than a week in the immediate vicinity, searching vigilantly for him.  We expected to find him somewhere on the south-west shore of the lake, as at the time he was lost it was generally understood we would that evening camp on the south-western arm of the lake.
    On the afternoon of September 13th, when Mr. Everts had been missing four days, there was slight indications of snow, which indications continued for two days, by which time it was two feet deep.  The weather was not very cold, and by means of the tent we got along quite comfortably; but we feared that the storm would prove fatal to our poor, lost friend.  Conjectures as to his probable fate were numberless, but futile.  Our chief hope lay in the fact of his being well mounted, and the hope that, failing to find us on the second day, he had started for the settlements; in which case he might possibly be beyond the region of the snow-storm.  When lost he was without provisions, but had with him a needle-gun.  We continued our efforts until nearly out of provisions; and then, leaving three persons to still look for him, the rest of us turned toward the settlements.
    Immediately on our arrival, two old mountaineers were furnished with six weeks' provisions, and offered a large reward if they succeeded in finding him, or should bring back his body.  They found him, quite exhausted, and nearly famished about sixty miles from Bozeman.  He was trying to follow back on the route by which we ascended the Yellowstone.  It seems that his horse got away from the day after he left us.  His gun was made fast to the saddle, and his revolver was in his cantinas; so Go to next page

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