“So much the better,” remarked Pat; “av it kapes thim busy for the nixt hour or so, while we sacure our mate. This way, lads, and kape quiet on yer lives.”
They made their way to the side of the fallen young bull, and Sandy’s eyes glistened when he realized what a piece of good luck had come their way; when it might just as well have been a tough old fellow they were given the chance to carve.
Pat posted each of the boys at a certain spot to keep watch. They were to give him a signal if any of the red hunters approached to look up the animal which had fallen behind the patch of trees, and which had undoubtedly been marked by their keen, all-seeing eyes.
There were only about nine of the Indians, Sandy had said as he left his companions; and his tone told Bob how he must be figuring on their chances, should the adventure wind up in a fight; for Sandy would never consent to abandon such a fine store of buffalo meat, if it could possibly be avoided.
From the spot where he was posted Bob could easily see the Indians working over the slain animals that had fallen before the deadly arrows of the hunter who had made use of the skin of a wolf, and kept to the leeward of the herd, in order that they might not catch his scent, and take the alarm.
He could not but feel a certain thrill as he watched them work, knowing that, if they dreamed of the presence of the hated palefaces near by, they would only too quickly drop their operations, and go on the war-path, looking for scalps.
And yet Bob would have been glad to have had an opportunity to watch how the whole process of curing the meat was carried out, because he always felt a great interest in such things.
He lay there for a very long time, it seemed to him. At least on three separate occasions he feared the time had come when discovery could not be avoided, and that one of the busy braves meant to look for the bull that had fallen further off than any of the rest. But, on each occasion, it proved to be a false alarm, and Bob found no need of whistling like a quail to warn Pat, so that the trapper might be on his guard.
And then, when Bob was beginning to be very nervous, under the belief that discovery could not now be long delayed, he caught the whistle of a gopher, thrice repeated. This had been the signal by means of which Pat would let the boys know he had completed his task, and that they were to join him without delay.
So Bob quickly crawled back, at times taking to his heels, and bending low, so as to keep under the curtain of long grass.