“Sech doin’s don’t shine with this coon. He wishes he war back at old Touse, he does.”
“Ma foi! Suppose they two come to the place where the river runs from under them so that they sink in the mud! And then the people with web feet like ducks will get them!”
The march proceeded, down along the course of the Bear. All day, by horse and foot, tugging the spring-wagon and the gun-carriage, they plodded. Gradually the country changed, becoming more and more desolate and forbidding. In places the river seemed to be higher than the surface upon either side: sluggishly rolling between banks like welts it spread out into salt marshes harboring thousands of water fowl――ducks, geese, cranes, herons, pelicans, gulls, curlew, plover. Where the water had evaporated under the sun the bare soil gleamed white, and was covered with small shells. Only a few twisted shrubs and short blackened willows rose above the drear, dead expanse.
Late in the afternoon the camp was pitched among willow clumps. The lieutenant and Basil had not appeared, and nothing had been seen of the boat. Many were the dire predictions, and François, Basil’s brother, was well-nigh frantic. Over the wide salt swamps the sun set strangely yellow, his glow casting a ghastly light upon all objects. But a cheer rang forth, for trudging along the river came the lieutenant and Basil.
They were wet and tired and hungry. The boat had moved slowly upon the heavy current which swept along in a winding course of many curves and doublings; so finally they had left the craft behind cached in some willows, and clambering out upon the bank had trailed the company afoot, for three hours.
At three o’clock in the morning Basil started back, with a small party, all on horseback, to get the boat; they returned in the afternoon, bringing not only the boat but some roots and bear-meat for which they had traded with the Diggers.
“Shoshonies and Shoshokies――they air same Injuns made different by the way they live,” declared William New to Oliver. “You see, when they air rich an’ have hosses, like the Snakes, they call themselves Shoshonies; an’ when they air pore an’ miser’ble an’ go afoot, they air called Shoshokies. Out on the desert, west o’ hyar, these Root Diggers air so pore they wear a rabbit-skin for winter blanket, an’ they eat beetles an’ grass-hoppers an’ rats. Wagh! But they use p’isened arrows, an’ they’re wuss in a fight than bigger Injuns.”