"
The Indian looked at him stolidly, but did not move.
"Teacher says vamoose--heap bother pappooses," said Jack.
The Indian grunted and walked away. "Nothing like
understanding the language," boasted Jack, as we went back to the
wagon.
At noon we camped beside a stream, but thirty feet above
it. There was a clay bank almost as hard as stone rising
perpendicularly from the water's edge. With a pail and rope we
drew up all the water we needed. In the afternoon we got our
first sight of the Black Hills, like clouds low on the northern
horizon. About the same time we struck into the old Sidney trail,
which, before the railroad had reached nearer points, was used in
carrying freight to the Hills in wagons. In some places it was
half a mile wide and consisted of a score or more of tracks worn
into deep ruts. There was a herd of several thousand Texas cattle
crossing the trail in charge of a dozen men, and we waited and
watched them go by. Ollie had never seen such a display of horns
before.
Shortly after this we came upon the first sage-bush which we
had seen.
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