“They’re makin’ for water,” remarked Shackelford. “There’s a place hyarabouts where the river’s cl’ar of quicksands, and them knowing beasts hev discovered it. It is further down river, though, so we’ll sit hyar till they pass in our front. Now, boys, look out for white bufflers! If thar’s any in this world, ye’ll see ’em in that herd.”
A crimson flush stole to the cheeks of the young adventurers, and they exchanged smiles without glancing at the trapper.
Suddenly the line lengthened, and excitement faded from the young Ohioan’s eyes.
They turned to the trapper.
“We’re in danger!”
Frontier Shack did not reply, but watched the animals whose extended ranks endangered their lives to an imminent degree.
“We stand between them and the water,” said Tom Kyle, coolly, and with infinite pleasure, despite his situation. “They are coming like lightning, and they could catch us before we could reach the river.”
“I know it,” replied the hunter; “but we must not die here.”
“We can’t fire the prairie, although the wind is in our favor.”
“No; the grass is green now.”