Thus urged, the younger boy hastened to comply.
"Just to think," he could not help saying, when this important business had been attended to, and both of the guns were placed in shape for further service, "we've actually brought down a big buffalo. And it is the first one shot by any of our party. But all the honor is yours, Bob. If it had been left to me perhaps the old sinner might have got me. I was getting blown to a certainty."
"But we can share the honor, Sandy; for if you had not kept running round and round as you did, how else could I have shot him?"
That was Bob's generous way, and Sandy knew it would be utterly useless trying to escape taking half the credit.
"You watch while I use the knife and take off the skin," Bob went on; for he knew that the hide, if properly cured, would make a valuable robe, to insure warmth when the winter snows came again. "And watch out for Indians," he added suggestively.
These boys had served their apprenticeship at trapping animals, and there was little in the science of removing and preserving pelts that they did not know. So now, while Bob had never before seen a dead buffalo, and only had a glimpse of a live one close at hand, he knew just how to go to work.
"Plenty of good meat here for the whole camp," remarked Sandy, with kindling eyes, as he saw the large buffalo hams exposed by the removal of the hide.
"Yes, and they say it is fine. If it can beat that bear we shot early last winter, before all its fat was gone, I'll be glad we ran across him," Bob remarked, as he now prepared to cut the carcass up, so that the best portions might be reserved.
"I wonder when the folks will be along?" said the younger lad, allowing his gaze to travel between the thick trees in that quarter where it might be expected the pack-horses would sooner or later appear.
"Listen!" remarked Bob just then, raising his head, "I thought I heard a shout far away."