“You will go there, then, señor?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You do not heed the warnings, then?”
“I am not superstitious, and so warnings of imaginary evils have no dread for me; but, if warned of a real danger, I heed, as I flatter myself that I am no fool.”
The landlord shook his head; and then said he would furnish the means of transportation for what the señor cared to purchase, and he would take him to the best places at which to buy them.
The purchases were soon made, loaded in a wagon, and started upon the way for the hacienda, the scout, after having dinner at the tavern, starting on after the men, for they were already well on their way to the new home of Buffalo Bill in the mysterious valley.
The wagon was soon overtaken, and afterward the herd, and Buffalo Bill said:
“We now camp, pards, and to-morrow early we go into our home.”
The night halt was made, an early start followed the next morning, and before noon the cattle were halted upon the rich meadowland on either side the lake, several scouts left to guard them, while the rest rode on after their chief, who had gone on ahead to the hacienda.
“If that is not an owl’s roost I’m mistaken,” said one.