Part 3 (1/2)

The herd was drawing nearer and nearer. It would pa.s.s only a few hundred yards from the crest on which the train stood. Already the hunters were shouting to one another and galloping away, but d.i.c.k did not stir from Albert's side. Albert's eyes were expanded, and the new color in his face deepened. His breath cam in the short, quick fas.h.i.+on of one who is excited. He suddenly turned to his brother.

”The men are off! Why aren't you with them d.i.c.k?” he exclaimed.

”I thought I wouldn't go,” replied d.i.c.k evasively. ”There'll be enough without me.”

Albert stared. Not hunt buffalo when one could. It was unbelievable. Then he comprehended. But he would not have it that way! It was n.o.ble of d.i.c.k, but it should not be so for a moment. He cried out, a note of anxiety in this voice:

”No, d.i.c.k, you shall not say here with me! My time will come later on! Jump on your horse, d.i.c.k, and join 'em! I won't forgive you if you don't!”

d.i.c.k saw that Albert was in earnest, and he knew that it would be better for them both now if he should go.

”All right, Al!” he cried, ”I'll pick out a good fat one.” He jumped on his horse and in a moment was galloping at full speed over the plain toward the great herd which now rushed on, black and thundering.

d.i.c.k heard shots already from those who had preceded him, and the exultant shouts of the men mingled with the roar of mighty tramplings. But it was not all triumph for the men, few of whom were experienced. Two or three had been thrown by shying horses, and with difficulty escaped being trodden to death under the feet of the herd. The herd itself was so immense that it did not notice these few wasps on a distant flank, and thundered steadily on southward.

d.i.c.k's own horse, frightened by such a tremendous sight, s.h.i.+ed and jumped, but the boy had a sure seat and brought him around again. d.i.c.k himself was somewhat daunted by the aspect of the herd. If he and his hose got in the way, they would go down forever, as surely as if engulfed by an avalanche.

The horse s.h.i.+ed again and made a mighty jump, as a huge bull, red-eyed and puffing, charged by. d.i.c.k, who was holding his rifle in one hand, slipped far over, and with great difficulty regained his balance on the horse's back. When he was secure again, he turned his mount and galloped along for some distance on the flank of the herd, seeking a suitable target for his bullet. The effect was dizzying. So many thousands were rus.h.i.+ng beside him that the s.h.i.+fting panorama made him wink his eyes rapidly. Vast clouds of dust floated about, now and then enveloping him, and that made him wink his eyes, too. But he continued, nevertheless, to seek for his target a fat cow.

Somehow he didn't seem to see anything just then but old bulls.

They were thick on the flanks of the herd either as stragglers or protectors, and d.i.c.k was afraid to press in among them in his search for the cow.

His opportunity came at last. A young cow, as fat as one could wish, was thrown on the outside by some movement of the herd, caught, as it were, like a piece of driftwood in an eddy, and d.i.c.k instantly fired at her. She staggered and went down, but at the same instant a huge, s.h.a.ggy bull careened against d.i.c.k and his horse. It was not so much a charge as an accident, the chance of d.i.c.k's getting in the bull's way, and the boy's escape was exceedingly narrow.

His horse staggered and fell to his knees. The violence of the shock wrested d.i.c.k's rifle from his hand, and he was barely quick enough to grasp it as it was sliding across the saddle. But he did save it, and the horse, trembling and frightened, recovered his feet. By that time the old bull and his comrades were gone.

d.i.c.k glanced around and was relieved to see that n.o.body had noticed his plight. They were all too much absorbed in their own efforts to pay any heed to him. The body took a deep, long breath. He had killed a buffalo, despite his inexperience.

There was the cow to show for it.

The herd thundered off to the southward, the clouds of dust and the fringe of wolves following it. About a dozen of their number had fallen before the rifles, but d.i.c.k had secured the fattest and the tenderest. Albert, as proud as d.i.c.k himself of his triumph, came down on the plain and helped as much as he could in skinning and cutting up the cow. d.i.c.k wished to preserve the robe, and they spread it out on the wagon to dry.

The train made no further attempt to advance that day, but devoted the afternoon to a great feast. Bright Sun showed them how to cook the tenderest part of the hump in the coals, and far into the night the fires blazed.

”We will see no more buffaloes for a while,” said Bright Sun.

”To-morrow we reach another little river coming down from the hills, and the ground becomes rough.”

Bright Sun told the truth. They reached the river about noon of the next day, and, as it flowed between steep banks, the crossing was difficult. It took many hours to get on the other side, and two or three axles were broken by the heavy jolts. Conway raged and swore, calling them a clumsy lot, and some of the men refused to take his abuse, replying to his hard words with others equally as hard. Pistols were drawn and there was promise of trouble, but it was finally stopped, partly by the persuasion of others, and partly of its own accord. The men were still feeling the desire for gold too strongly to fight while on the way to it.

d.i.c.k and Albert kept aloof from these contentions, steadily minding their own business, and they found, as others do, that it paid.

They came presently into a better country, and the way led for a day or two through a typical part of the Great Plains, not a flat region, but one of low, monotonous swells. Now and then they crossed a shallow little creek, and occasionally they came to pools, some of which were tinged with alkali. There were numerous small depressions, two or three feet deep, and d.i.c.k knew that they were ”buffalo wallows.” He and Albert examined them with interest.

”This is buffalo country again,” said d.i.c.k. ”Everything proves it. The gra.s.s here is the best that we have seen in a long time, and I imagine that it's just the sort of place they would love.”

The gra.s.s was, indeed, good, as d.i.c.k had said, not merely clumps of it, but often wide, carpeted s.p.a.ces. It was somewhat dry, and turning brown, but so big and strong an animal as the buffalo would not mind it. In fact, they saw several small groups of buffaloes grazing at a distance, usually on the crest of one of the low swells. As they already had plenty of buffalo meat, the men of the train did not trouble them, and the great animals would continue to crop the gra.s.s undisturbed.

About a week after the buffalo hunt they camped in a great plain somewhat flatter than any that they had encountered hitherto, and drew up the wagons in a loose circle.

The day had been very hot, but, as usual on the plains, the night brought coolness. The fire which d.i.c.k made of buffalo chips was not only useful, but it felt pleasant, too, as they sat beside it, ate their supper, and watched the great inclosing circle of darkness creep up closer and closer to the camp. There was not much noise about them. The men were tired, and as soon as they ate their food they fell asleep in the wagons or on the ground.

The tethered horses and mules stirred a little for a while, but they, too, soon rested in peace.

”You take the wagon, Al,” said d.i.c.k, ”but I think I'll sleep on the ground.”