He arrived at just the same time as Sandy; and they were delighted to find that the expert Pat had not only succeeded in cutting up the young bull, but had three packs of the best portions of the meat ready to be transported.
Making use of the trees as a means to hide their retreat, the three whites succeeded in getting away without attracting the notice of the Indian buffalo hunters. Pat had purposely blinded the trail, as he came along last of all. He hoped that, when one of the Indians approached the spot, and saw that the bull had already been attended to, he would turn around without making an examination, under the belief that another of the band had been ahead of him.
Something of the sort must really have happened, for, though the boys kept on the alert for half an hour, listening, and expecting to catch shrill yells of anger from the back trail, nothing of the kind came to pass. And more than once Bob saw Sandy start when he heard a bird rustle the grass near by, as though he half expected to see a feathered head thrust up, and come face to face with an enraged Indian warrior.
They reached in safety the spot where the flatboat was tied up, and great was the rejoicing of the entire company at sight of the toothsome burdens the three hunters carried on their backs. Around the little fire that afternoon the story was told of the wolf that handled a bow with such deadly accuracy; and the Yankee boy, Amos Terry, who was something of a greenhorn concerning all woodcraft, sat there with his eyes “as big as saucers,” as Sandy expressed it, hardly knowing whether to believe the tale or not.
But Pat was a little uneasy concerning the possible coming of the Indians, and made up his mind to keep an extra careful watch that night.
Taken all in all, the members of the company were delighted with things as they found them. Mr. Armstrong had discovered that the soil was of wonderful fertility, entirely different from that of the Ohio hills where their first home had been located; the women were pleased with the countless wild flowers that dotted the long grass of the level prairie; while Sandy and Bob already believed that the region near the Mississippi must be like the Indian “Happy Hunting Grounds,” and that game would be three times as abundant as they had ever known in the past.
CHAPTER XXII
AT THE SETTING OF THE EVENING STAR
The daring voyagers on the beamy flatboat knew that no matter how their adventure might turn out in the end, whether for good or evil, at least they were now on the home stretch. It was only a question of a few days before they would be able to feast their eager eyes on that great stream of which they had heard so much.