“I see fut-prints,” replied Bounce, dismounting; “an’ as fut-prints implies feet, an’ feet indicates critters, human or otherwise, it becomes men wot be lookin’ for a lost comrade to examine ’em with more nor or’nary care.”
“Hah!” shouted Gibault with unwonted energy. “Look! voilà! behold! Bounce, you hab great want of ‘obsarvation.’ See!”
Now it chanced that, while Bounce was on his knees, carefully turning over every leaf and blade of grass, his comrade, who remained on horseback, and kept gazing at the horizon, without any particular object in view, did suddenly behold an object coming towards them at full gallop. Hence the sudden outburst, and the succeeding exclamation from Bounce—“It’s a hoss!”
“A hoss!” repeated Gibault. “Him be one buffalo I see hims bump.”
“The bumps that ye see is neither more nor less than a man leanin’ forard—it is.”
At this moment the rest of the party rode up, and Redhand confirmed Bounce’s opinion.
“There’s only one, I guess, an’ he’s in a powerful hurry,” observed Big Waller. “But we may as well be ready to fix his flint if he means to cut up rough.”
He brought forward his gun as he spoke, and examined the priming.
“I b’lieve he’s an evil spirit, I do,” said Bounce; “wot a pace!”
“More like to de Wild Man of de Vest,” observed Gibault.