Jack looked around at the eager faces of his chums. Then off in a corner he saw the somewhat downcast countenance of the new boy—Will Williams.
“I wonder if he wouldn’t like to go, too?” Jack said to himself.
CHAPTER XII
WILL RUNS AWAY
The boys gathered about the warm fire, crowding close around Jack to hear more details of the proposed trip of the gun club.
“I’ve been reading up about hunting big game,” went on Jack, “and I asked my father if I could go the first chance I got. He said I could, and now I’ve got the chance.”
“What are those bad lands?” asked Fred Kaler. “Any Indians out there?”
“Some, I guess. A few Sioux, Crows and some Shoshones. But they’re mostly guides. You see, bad lands are what the Westerners call a region that isn’t very good for anything but hunting. They consist of a lot of sandstone peaks, with deserts here and there.”
“And what can you hunt there?” asked Nat.