In the course of twelve or fifteen days, however, he improved the opportunity of stealing a rifle and ammunition, with which he absconded and set his face for the mountains.
All that he now lacked to complete his equipment was a good horse, which deficiency seemed luckily made up by the discovery of one recently strayed from the Indians. "I must have him," said Bob. So, carelessly dropping his rifle and pack, he commenced a fruitless effort to capture the erratic steed.
For a while his success seemed almost certain; but, after a tedious trial for several hours, he was finally obliged to relinquish the attempt, and turned to recover his rifle and pack. Alas, for Old Bob! here an unlooked-for calamity presented itself—they were not to be found!
Vainly it was that he searched diligently for four successive days, enduring in the mean time all the pangs of hunger and the goadings of a guilty conscience — his scrutiny gave not the slightest indication of their whereabouts. "Truly,' the way of transgressors is hard!"' thought Bob, as with reluctance he abandoned all,55 and despairingly set his face to go — he knew not whither! — half-starved and half-naked, with neither pistol, gun, nor butcher-knife, for his defence in a dangerous country; nor one morsel to renew his strength by day, nor even a solitary rag to screen him from the chill air of night!
55 Two weeks subsequently, while on a hunting excursion, the person to whom the stolen rifle belonged found it, with all the property of the thief;- a most remarkable circumstance, as the country had been filled with strolling Indians during the interval
The next place at which Old Bob showed himself was at an Indian lodge, thither driven by the impulse of hunger—having starved for more than five successive days. Here he procured a temporary supply from the compassionate inmates, who also kindly gave him a robe.
Nothing further was heard of him for eight or ten days, and the generally conceded opinion was, that he had either starved to death or had been killed by savages, when an express from the Arkansas brought intelligence of having encountered him by the way.
The luckless wight, after being without eating for five or six more days, had been robbed by the Apache Indians of everything about him except a pair of ragged pantaloons, and barely escaped from them with his life! The express furnished him with a quantity of provisions, a pistol, robe, and ammunition, when, bidding him farewell, the two resumed their respective courses.
From this date, his story is briefly told. Pursuing his way toward the Arkansas, he soon after met a small party of Mexican traders, and, creeping upon their encampment at night, helped himself to a couple of horses. “It's a straight road that has no turns," muttered Old Bob, as he mounted one of them and returned to the Platte, where he bartered the other for a rifle and ammunition.
For a brief interval he seemed to prosper in his iniquity, but erelong the tables were again turned upon him, and he experienced the literal fulfillment of that other declaration of holy writ which says, "The wicked shall not go unpunished."
Elated by his recent success, he again started for the Arkansas, with the intent
