Chapter Four.
Going on a Great Hunt.
It was full three weeks before Hugot returned. They were a long three weeks to the old Colonel,—who was troubled with apprehensions that Hugot would not succeed in his errand. He had written in reply to the letter of Prince Bonaparte. He had written promising to procure—if possible—a white buffalo-skin—for this was what the Prince’s letter was about;—and not for half what he was worth would the Colonel have failed to accomplish this object. No wonder, then, he was impatient and uneasy during Hugot’s absence.
Hugot returned at length, after night. The Colonel did not wait until he entered the house, but met him at the door, candle in hand. He need not have put any question, as Hugot’s face answered that question before it was asked. The moment the light fell upon it, any one could have told that Hugot had come back without the skin. He looked quite crest-fallen; and his great moustachios appeared bleached and drooping.
“You have not got it?” interrogated the Colonel, in a faltering voice.
“No, Colonel,” muttered Hugot, in reply.
“You tried everywhere?”
“Everywhere.”
“You advertised in the papers?”