"Now I can take my time," declared old Benson. "Sorry I aint got my hunting-knife."
"Where is it?"
"It was lost in the shuffle with those desperadoes I put in the hole." The old scout chuckled. "My! my! how they must love me for putting 'em down there!"
"They'll have it in for you when they get out," remarked Darry.
"Oh, I'm not afraid, lad."
The buffalo had fallen into something of a heap, and it took their combined efforts to turn the huge carcass over. Then old Benson got out his clasp-knife, sharpened the blade upon the leather of his boot, and set to work, the boys assisting him as much as possible, which was not much, since the process was entirely new to them.
"That will be a load," said Joe, when they had the skin and a part of the head free. "How much do they weigh, Benson?"
"Close on to a hundred pounds."
"And how shall we carry that load?"
"We'll tie it up into something of a long bundle and take turns at toting it behind our saddles. Of course we won't be able to move along as fast as before, but that won't be necessary, now the captain has gone ahead to break the news."