"That Buffalo Smith's herd of bison had broken from their range and gone back to the free life of their kind. They skedaddled in a night."
"Yes, I heard about that," came the reply. "And Zander told me as his own private opinion that Captain Smith would have trouble rounding up the run-aways, because they'd separated in every direction, each seeming to want to look out for himself."
"Wasn't that a queer way for buffaloes to act?" queried Lanky. "I always understood they kept together in a bunch, just as our cattle do unless they've been stampeded and badly frightened, when they go into a panic."
"Zander, who seems to know lots about the animals, told me," commented Frank, "that you never can tell what a buffalo will do. He says they often seem to get wild and crazy, as if they'd been eating the loco weed that's found sometimes on the plains. But what made you bring up that subject, if it's a fair question, Paul?"
"Oh, just because we're pretty close to one of that same run-away herd right now," came the cool and astonishing reply.
"What's that?" exclaimed Lanky, perking up instantly.
"Where do you see a buffalo?" asked Frank, also interested, although believing the other must have deceived himself.
Paul pulled in his pony and pointed toward the foot of the mountain chain.
"Right alongside that patch of trees growing in front of the big boulder. There, he's raised his shaggy head and is staring straight at us!"
The others took one good look, and then while Lanky whistled to mark his surprise, also delight, Frank hastened to give his opinion.