They were all three with the round-up,
and were making a circle through the Bad Lands; the wagons had camped on
the eastern edge of these Bad Lands, where they merged into the prairie,
at the head of an old disused road, which led about due east from the
Little Missouri. It was a gray, lowering day, and as darkness came on
Hamilton's horse played out, and he told his two companions not to wait,
as it had begun to snow, but to keep on towards the north, skirting some
particularly rough buttes, and as soon as they struck the road to turn
to the right and follow it out to the prairie, where they would find
camp; he particularly warned them to keep a sharp look-out, so as not
to pass over the dim trail unawares in the dusk and the storm. They
followed his advice, and reached camp safely; and after they had left
him nobody ever again saw him alive. Evidently he himself, plodding
northwards, passed over the road without seeing it in the gathering
gloom; probably he struck it at some point where the ground was bad, and
the dim trail in consequence disappeared entirely, as is the way with
these prairie roads--making them landmarks to be used with caution.
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