Chet peeped and peered after the trotting buffalo until he reached his clan. The herd was not disturbed. All went on feeding peacefully. It would have been too bad to shoot at that single bull and so startle the entire herd.
But they were feeding a good ways out on the open and unbroken plain. Chet scanned it carefully. There really did not seem to be a bit of screen on this side behind which they might creep up on the buffaloes.
The gentle wind blew towards him. He knew better than to try to approach the herd with the wind. But how meet the emergency?
Chet Havens was not a practical hunter; but he was theoretically a good one, for he had a good memory and was a good shot. The mere ability to shoot true is not the only quality necessary to make a good sportsman. The boy realised his shortcomings.
He had never been placed in such a situation as this alone before. Always he and Dig had had an experienced hunter with them when they stalked deer. Here was a case where the boy had to decide what to do on his own initiative.
His father and Mr. Fordham had praised his resourcefulness when he had made the successful attempt to get at the men entombed in the Silent Sue mine. This was another chance for him to prove that they had not been mistaken in him.
Chet Havens glanced again at the peacefully feeding buffaloes, fully a quarter of a mile away; then he looked down into the hollow where the two horses grazed and Dig awaited him. An idea was born in the boy’s mind.
CHAPTER XIX—A FRUITLESS CHASE
Chet slipped down from the summit of the rise, motioning to his chum to keep still. For, although the buffaloes were grazing so far away, he feared that a loud word spoken might startle them.
“Have they skedaddled, Chet?” Dig finally whispered when his chum came near.