“Dod! I wonder if it’s wolves or Injins!” exclaimed a voice within the cavity of the huge body.
“I’ve heard that voice before—it must be Sneak’s,” said Boone, laughing heartily.
Now the buffalo was observed to quiver slightly, and after some exertion to extricate himself, the long snake-like form of the redoubtable “Hatchet-face” came forth and stood erect before the gaping mouth and staring eyes of Joe.
“If I didn’t hear a white man speak, I wish I may be singed!” exclaimed Sneak, wiping the moisture from his face, and rolling his eyes round.
“What did you stick that sharp thing in the calf of my leg for?” demanded Joe, shaking his head threateningly and coming forward.
“He! he! he! That’s revenge for shooting my pups,” replied Sneak.
“But how came you here?” inquired Boone.
“I was taking a hunt”—here Boone interrupted him by asking where his gun was. “I had no gun,” said Sneak; and then stooping down and running his arm into the body of the buffalo, he produced a pronged spear, about four feet in length; “this,” he continued, “is what I hunted with, and I was hunting after muskrats in the ponds out here, when the fire came like blazes, and like to ’ave ketched me! I dropped all the muskrats I had stuck, and streaked it for about an hour towards the river. But it gained on me like lightning, and I’d ’ave been in a purty fix if I hadn’t come across this dead bull. I out with my knife and was into him in less than no time—but split me, if I didn’t feel the heat of the fire as I pulled in my feet! I knew the Injins was about, by the buffalo; and the tarnation wolves, too, are always everywhere, and that accounts for my jobbing that feller’s leg when he sot down on top of me.”
Glenn’s laughter at the above narration was arrested by Boone, who placed one hand on his shoulder, and with the other pointed out towards the fire about a mile distant, before which and thrown in relief by the flames could be distinctly discerned the flitting forms of a band of savages! A number were mounted, and others could be seen on foot, and all moving about in various directions round a large herd of buffalo, which occasionally made a stand to resist the foe that harassed them on all sides, but were soon driven forward again by the flames. Now a mounted chief could be seen to ride boldly up within a few paces of the dark mass of animals, and drawing his arrow to the head, discharge it, shaft and all, into the defenceless side of his victim. The enraged animal thus pursued either fell or rushed furiously on its foe; but the skilful savage, by a dexterous turn or sudden leap, seemed to avoid him with ease, and flying round, sent forth another barbed messenger as he careered at full speed.
“As I’m afoot, I’ll go ahead!” cried Sneak, starting off at a gait that verified his words.