THREE days after the little disciplining I had given Rattler, Mr. White, the head engineer of the next section, rode over to us to report that their work was finished, and to inquire what our prospects were for making speedy connection. When he set out on his return he invited Sam Hawkins and me to accompany him part of the way through the valley.

We found him a very agreeable companion; and when we came to the point where we were to turn back we shook hands cordially, leaving him with regret. " There's one thing I want to warn you of," Mr. White said in parting. " Look out for redskins."

" Have you seen them ? " Sam asked.

" Not them, but their tracks. Now is the time when the wild mustangs and the buffaloes go southward, and the Indians follow in the chase. The Kiowas are all right, for we arranged with them for the road, but the Apaches and Comanches know nothing of it, and we don't dare let them see us. We have finished our part, and are ready to leave this region; hurry up with yours, and do likewise. Remember there's danger, and good-by."

Sam looked gravely after his retreating form, and pointed to a footprint near the spring where we had

paused for parting. " He's quite right to warn us of Indians," he said.

"Do you mean this footprint was made by an Indian ? "

" Yes, an Indian's moccasin. How does that make you feel ? "

" Not at all."

" You must feel or think something."

" What should I think except that an Indian has been here ? "

" Not afraid ? "

" Not a bit."

" Oh," cried Sam, " you're living up to your name of Shatterhand; but I tell you that Indians are not so easy to shatter; you don't know them."

" But I hope to understand them. They must be like other men, enemies to their enemies, friends to their friends; and as I mean to treat them well, I don't see why I should fear them."

" You'll find out," said Sam, " or you'll be a greenhorn for eternity. You may treat the Indians as you like, and it won't turn out as you expect, for the results don't depend on your will. You'll learn by experience, and I only hope the experience won't cost you your life."

This was not cheering, and for some time we rode through the pleasant autumn air in silence.

Suddenly Sam reined up his horse, and looked ahead earnestly through half-closed lids. " By George," he cried excitedly, " there they are ! Actually there they are, the very first ones."

" What ? " I asked. I saw at some distance ahead of us perhaps eighteen or twenty dark forms moving slowly.

" What ! " repeated Sam, bouncing up and down in his saddle. " I'd be ashamed to ask such a question; you are indeed a precious greenhorn. Can't you guess, my learned sir, what those things are before your eyes there ? "

" I should take them for deer if I didn't know there were none about here; and though those animals look so small from here, I should say they were larger than deer."

" Deer in this locality ! That's a good one ! But your other guess is not so bad; they certainly are larger than deer."

" O Sam, they surely can't be buffaloes ? "

" They surely can. Bisons they are, genuine bisons beginning their travels, and the first I have seen. You see Mr. White was right: buffaloes and Indians. We saw only a footprint of the red men, but the buffaloes are there before our eyes in all their strength. What do you say about it ? "

" We must go up to them."

" Sure."

" And study them."

" Study them ? Really study them ?" he asked glancing at me sidewise in surprise.

" Yes; I never saw a buffalo, and I'd like to watch them."

I felt the interest of a naturalist, which was perfectly incomprehensible to little Sam. He rubbed his hands

together, saying: "Watch them, only watch them ! Like a child putting his eye to a rabbit's hole to see the little bunnies ! O you young tenderfoot, what I must put up with in you ! I don't want to watch them or study them, I tell you, but hunt them. They mean meat - meat, do you understand ? and such meat ! A buffalo-steak is more glorious than ambrosia, or ambrosiana, or whatever you call the stuff the old Greeks fed their gods with. I must have a buffalo if it costs me my life. The wind is towards us; that's good. The sun's on the left, towards the valley, but it's shady on the right, and if we keep in the shade the animals won't see us. Come on."

He looked to see if his gun, " Liddy," as he called it, was all right, and I hastily overhauled my own weapon. Seeing this, Sam held up his horse and asked: "Do you want to take a hand in this ? "

" Of course."

" Well, you let that thing alone if you don't want to be trampled to jelly in the next ten minutes. A buffalo isn't a canary bird for a man to take on his finger and let it sing."

" But I will - "

" Be silent, and obey me," he interrupted in a tone he had never used before. " I won't have your life on my conscience, and you would ride into the jaws of certain death. You can do what you please at other times, but now I'll stand no opposition."

Had there not been such a good understanding between us I would have given him a forcible answer; but as it was, I rode after him in the shadow of the hills

without speaking, and after a while Sam said in his usual manner: " There are twenty head, as I reckon. Once a thousand or more browsed over the plains. I have seen early herds numbering a thousand and upward. They were the Indians' food, but the white men have taken it from them. The redskin hunted to live, and only killed what he needed. But the white man has ravaged countless herds, like a robber who for very lust of blood keeps on slaying when he is well supplied. It won't be long before there are no buffaloes, and a little longer and there'll be no Indians, God help them ! And it's just the same with the herds of horses. There used to be herds of a thousand mustangs, and even more. Now a man is lucky if he sees two together."

We had come within four hundred feet of the buffaloes unobserved, and Hawkins reined in his horse. In the van of the herd was an old bull whose enormous bulk I studied with wonder. He was certainly six feet high and ten long; I did not then know how to estimate the weight of a buffalo, but I should now say that he must have weighed sixteen hundred pounds - an astounding mass of flesh and bone.

" That's the leader," whispered Sam, " the most experienced of the whole crowd. Whoever tackles him had better make his will first. I will take the young cow right back of him. The best place to shoot is behind the shoulder-blade into the heart; indeed it's the only sure place except the eyes, and none but a madman would go up to a buffalo and shoot into his eyes. You stay here, and hide yourself and your horse in the thicket. When they see me they'll run past here; but

don't you quit your place unless I come back or call you."

He waited until I had hidden between two bushes, and then rode slowly forward. It seemed to me this took great courage. I had often read how buffaloes were hunted, and knew all about it; but there is a great difference between a printed page and the real thing. To-day I had seen buffaloes for the first time in my life; and though at first I only wished to study them, as I watched Sam I felt an irresistible longing to join in the sport. He was going to shoot a young cow. Pshaw ! that, I thought, required no courage; a true man would choose the strongest bull.

My horse was very restless; he, too, had never seen buffaloes before, and he pawed the ground, frightened and so anxious to run that I could scarcely hold him. Would it not be better to let him go, and attack the old bull myself ? I debated this question inwardly, divided between desire to go and regard for Sam's command, meantime watching his every movement.

He had approached within a hundred feet of the buffaloes, when he spurred his horse and galloped into the herd, past the mighty bull, up to the cow which he had selected. She pricked up her ears, and started to run. I saw Sam shoot. She staggered, and her head dropped, but I did not know whether or not she fell, for my eyes were chained to another spot.

The great bull, which had been lying down, was getting up, and turned toward Sam Hawkins. What a mighty beast ! The thick head with the enormous skull, the broad forehead with its short, strong horns,

the neck and breast covered with the coarse mane, made a picture of the greatest possible strength. Yes, it was a marvellous creature, but the sight of him aroused a longing to measure human strength with this power of the plains. Should I or should I not ? I could not decide, nor was I sure that my roan would take me towards him; but just then my frightened horse sprang forth from our cover, and I resolved to try, and spurred him towards the bull. He heard me coming, and turned to meet me, lowering his head to receive horse and rider on his horns. I heard Sam cry out something with all his might, but had no time even to glance at him. It was impossible to shoot the buffalo, for in the first place he was not in the right position, and in the second place my horse would not obey me, but for very fear ran straight towards the threatening horns. The buffalo braced his hind legs to toss us, and raised his head with a mighty bellow. Exerting all my strength, I turned my horse a little, and he leaped over the bull, while the horns grazed my leg.

My course lay directly towards a mire in which the buffalo had been sleeping. I saw this, and fortunately drew my feet from the stirrups; my horse slipped and we both fell.

How it all happened so quickly is incomprehensible to me now, but the next moment I stood upright beside the morass, my gun still in my hand. The buffalo turned on the horse, which had also risen quickly, and came on him in ungainly leaps, and this brought his flank under my fire. I took aim. One more bound and the buffalo would reach my horse. I pulled the trigger; he stopped,

whether from fear or because he was hit I did not know, but I fired again, two shots in rapid succession. He slowly raised his head, froze my blood with a last awful roar, swayed from side to side, and fell where he stood.

I might have rejoiced over this narrow escape, but I had something else to attend to. I saw Sam Hawkins galloping for dear life across the valley, followed by a steer not much smaller than my bull had been.

When the bison is aroused his speed is as great as that of a horse; he never gives up his object, and shows a courage and perseverance one would not have expected of him. So this steer was pressing the rider hard, and in order to escape him Sam had to make many turns, which so wearied his horse that he could not hold out as long as the buffalo, and it was quite time that help arrived.

I did not stop to see whether or not my bull was dead. I quickly reloaded both chambers of my gun, and ran across the grass towards Sam. He saw me, and turned his horse in my direction. This was a great mistake, for it brought the horse's side towards the steer behind him. I saw him lower his horns, and in an instant horse and rider were tossed in the air, and fell to the ground with a dreadful thud. Sam cried for help as well as he could. I was a good hundred and fifty feet away, but I dared not delay, though the shot would have been surer at shorter range. I aimed at the steer's left shoulder-blade and fired. The buffalo raised his head as if listening, turned slowly, then ran at me with all his might. Luckily for me, his moment of hesitation

had given me time to reload, and therefore I was ready for him by the time the beast had made thirty paces towards me. He could no longer run; his steps became slow, but with deep-hanging head and protruding, bloodshot eyes he came nearer and nearer to me, like some awful, unavoidable fate. I knelt down and brought my gun into position. This movement made the buffalo halt and raise his head a little to see me better, thus bringing his eyes just in range of both barrels. I sent one shot into the right, another into the left eye; a quick shudder went through his body, and the beast fell dead.

Springing to my feet, I rushed toward Sam; but it was not necessary, for I saw him approaching.

" Hallo ! " I cried, " are you alive ? "

" Very much so, only my left hip pains me, or the right; I'm sure I can't tell which."

" And your horse ? "

" Done for; he's still alive, but he's torn past help. We'll have to shoot him to put him out of his misery, poor fellow. Is the buffalo dead ? "

I was not able to answer this question positively, so we made sure that there was no life in my former foe, and Hawkins said: " He treated me pretty badly, this old brute; a cow would have been gentler, but I suppose you can't expect such an old soldier to be lady-like. Let us go to my poor horse."

We found him in a pitiable condition, torn so that his entrails protruded, and groaning with agony. Sam loaded, and gave the poor creature the shot that ended his suffering, and then he removed the saddle and

bridle, saying: " I'll be my own horse, and put these on my back."

" Where will you get another horse ? " I asked.

" That's the least of my troubles; I'll find one unless I'm mistaken."

" A mustang ? "

" Yes. The buffaloes are here; they've begun travelling southward, and soon we'll see the mustangs, I'm sure of that."

" May I go with you when you catch one ? "

" Sure; you'll have to learn to do it. I wonder if that old bull is dead; such Mathusalas are wonderfully tough."

But the beast was dead, as we found on investigation; and as he lay there I realized more fully what a monster he was. Sam looked him over, shook his head, and said: "It is perfectly incredible. Do you know what you are ? "

" What ? "

" The most reckless man on earth."

" I've never been accused of recklessness before."

"Well, now you know that 'reckless' is the word for you. I forbade you meddling with a buffalo or leaving your hiding-place; but if you were going to disobey me, why didn't you shoot a cow ? "

" Because this was more knightly."

"Knightly ! Great Scott ! This tenderfoot wants to play knight ! " He laughed till he had to take hold of the bushes for support, and when he got his breath he cried: " The true frontiersman does what is most expedient, not what's most knightly."

" And I did that, too."

" How do you make that out ? "

" That big bull has much more flesh on him than a cow."

Sam looked at me mockingly. " Much more flesh ! " he cried. " And this youngster shot a bull for his flesh ! Why, boy, this old stager had surely eighteen or twenty years on his head, and his flesh is as hard as leather, while the cow's flesh is fine and tender. All this shows again what a greenhorn you are. Now go get your horse, and we'll load him with all the meat he can carry."

In spite of Sam's mocking me, that night as I stood unobserved in the door of the tent where he and Stone and Parker sat by their fire I heard Sam say: " Yes, sir, he's going to be a genuine Westerner; he's born one. And how strong he is ! Yesterday he drew our great oxcart alone and single-handed. Now to-day I owe him my life. But we won't let him know what we think of him."

" Why not ? " asked Parker.

" It might swell his head," replied Sam. " Many a good fellow has been spoiled by praise. I suppose he'll think I'm an ungrateful old curmudgeon, for I never even thanked him for saving my life. But to-morrow I'll give him a treat; I'll take him to catch a mustang, and, no matter what he thinks, I know how to value him."

I crept away, pleased with what I had heard, and touched by the loving tone of my queer friend's voice as he spoke of me.

Chapter III

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