“No, Rollin, we have no time to hunt.”
“Behold!” exclaimed Rollin again; “more buffalo!”
They had swept past the stony ground and rounded a clump of trees, behind which a small herd of animals stood for a few seconds, staring at them in mute amazement. These snorted, set up their tails, and tore wildly away to the right. This was too much. With a gleeful yell, Rollin turned to pursue, but Victor called to him angrily to let the buffalo be. The half-breed turned back with a sigh.
“Ah, vell! ve must forbear.”
“I say, Vic,” remarked Ian, with a significant smile, “why won’t you go after the buffalo?”
Victor looked at his friend in surprise.
“Surely,” he said, “it is more important as well as more interesting to rescue one’s brother than to chase wild animals!”
“True, but how does that sentiment accord with your wish that you might spend eternity in hunting buffalo?”
“Oh, you know,” returned Victor, with a laugh, “when I said that I wasn’t thinking of—of—”
He switched his horse into a wilder gallop, and said no more. He had said quite enough. He was not the only youth in North America and elsewhere who has uttered a good deal of nonsense without “thinking.” But then that was long ago. Youths are wiser now!