Tóm tắt

“Next morning we were up by the earliest break of day, and had the pleasure of witnessing a beautiful phenomenon in the sunrise. The whole country to the east, as far as we could see, was a level plain; and the horizon, of course, resembled that of the ocean when calm. As the great yellow globe of the sun appeared above it, one could have fancied that he was rising out of the earth itself—although he was more than ninety millions of miles distant from any part of it. It was a beautiful sky into which the sun was slowly climbing up. It was of a pale blue colour, and without the smallest cloud—for on these high table-plains in the interior of America, you may often travel for days without seeing a cloud as big as a kite. We were all in better spirits, for we had rested well, and had no longer any fear of being followed by the savages who had massacred our companions. They would have been fools, indeed, to have made that dreadful journey for all they could have gotten from us. Moreover, the sight of our antelope, with its nice yellow fat, crisped by the cold night-air, was anything but disheartening. As Cudjo was a dexterous butcher, I allowed him to quarter it, while I shouldered the axe and marched off to the mountain-foot to procure more wood for the fire. Mary was busy among her pots, pans, and platters, scouring and washing them all in the clear stream—for the dust of the barren plains had blown into the wagon as we marched, and had formed a thick coating over the vessels. Fortunately we had a good stock of these utensils—consisting of a gridiron, a large camp-kettle, a couple of mess-pans, a baking-dish, a first-rate coffee-pot and mill, half-a-dozen tin-cups and plates, with an assortment of knives, forks, and spoons. All these things we had laid in at Saint Louis, by the advice of our Scotch friend, who know very well what articles were required for a journey across the Desert.