The boys had more than once shot the great, shaggy animals that in those early days abounded in countless thousands on the prairies of the Far West. Their fathers had hunted buffaloes while on the trail from Virginia to the banks of the Ohio when boys no older than Dick and Roger. Hence they were familiar with the habits of the animals which they now meant to stalk.
Choosing their course so as to keep a patch of cottonwoods between themselves and the small herd they had picked out as their prey, the two boys urged their horses on at a smart pace. In several quarters they could see the swift-footed antelopes vanishing at a surprising pace, frightened by the approach of these strange animals, bearing riders on their backs, the like of which they possibly had never beheld before that day.
The buffaloes, however, were not so easily alarmed. Unless they saw an enemy for themselves, or scented something that caused them uneasiness, they were likely to hold their ground where they chanced to be feeding. ([Note 5].)
Finally the boys decided it was no longer safe to take their horses with them. The animals were accordingly secured in a patch of timber, and the lads, still screened by the other motte, set forth on foot.
They had possibly a quarter of a mile to walk before reaching their intended shelter, from the other side of which they hoped to be able to fire upon some of the nearest of the herd. The old grass still lay on the ground, dead and brown; but shoots of the new spring crop had begun to thrust their heads up between. It was on this tender green stuff that the buffaloes were browsing, and, as it grew more freely in certain places, such a fact would account for their presence near the timber.
The one thing Dick and Roger had to be careful about was the chance of any straggler from the herd discovering them, and with a bellow giving the alarm. In order to avoid this if possible, Dick and his chum bent low as they advanced, and kept a wary lookout on either side of the timber.
The breeze blew from the trees toward them. This fact they had made sure of before starting, because, otherwise, such is the sense of smell in the buffaloes they would not have had the least chance of getting within shooting distance of the wary animals, who generally feed facing the wind.
When finally the boys arrived at the edge of the timber they believed everything was working as well as they could wish. As yet no sound had come to their ears that would indicate alarm on the part of their intended quarry; and Roger allowed himself to indulge in high hopes of a hunters’ feast that night, with buffalo meat in plenty as the main dish.