The First Object That Met Our Eyes In The Morning
Was Delorier, Who Seemed To Be Apostrophizing His Frying-Pan, Which
He Held By The Handle At Arm's Length.
It appeared that he had left
it at night by the fire; and the bottom was now covered with dorbugs,
firmly imbedded.
Multitudes beside, curiously parched and shriveled,
lay scattered among the ashes.
The horses and mules were turned loose to feed. We had just taken
our seats at breakfast, or rather reclined in the classic mode, when
an exclamation from Henry Chatillon, and a shout of alarm from the
captain, gave warning of some casualty, and looking up, we saw the
whole band of animals, twenty-three in number, filing off for the
settlements, the incorrigible Pontiac at their head, jumping along
with hobbled feet, at a gait much more rapid than graceful. Three or
four of us ran to cut them off, dashing as best we might through the
tall grass, which was glittering with myriads of dewdrops. After a
race of a mile or more, Shaw caught a horse. Tying the trail-rope by
way of bridle round the animal's jaw, and leaping upon his back, he
got in advance of the remaining fugitives, while we, soon bringing
them together, drove them in a crowd up to the tents, where each man
caught and saddled his own. Then we heard lamentations and curses;
for half the horses had broke their hobbles, and many were seriously
galled by attempting to run in fetters.
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