"Buffaloes!" he said laconically. "Two on 'em!"
"Can we catch them?" queried Dave.
"We can try, lad. But keep under cover. They seem to be coming this way."
All three hurried back to the foremost trees in the forest, carrying their guns as they did so. Luckily the camp-fire had died out, so there was no smoke to alarm the animals. Further in the forest the horses were tethered, having had their fill of grass two hours before.
"Better see if the horses are ready for use, Henry," said Barringford. "We may have to do some tall riding for our game."
"I will," answered Henry, and ran back without loss of time. The three steeds were quickly saddled, and then the young hunter brought them forward in a bunch, still, however, keeping them out of sight of the prairie.
It was now seen that the buffaloes were indeed moving in the direction of the camp. The two that had at first appeared were followed by eight or ten others, who kept in a bunch several rods behind the leaders.
"Oh, what a chance for big game!" whispered Dave. "If only we had two or three guns apiece!"
"Never mind, we have our pistols," came from Henry. "They'll count for something at close quarters."
"Whatever you do, don't all fire at once," cautioned Barringford. "One bullet may not be enough for one of the buffaloes. I'll fire first, and if he don't fall then Henry can fire, and then Dave."