formidable-looking hunting outfit, and the captain was disposed to be a
trifle patronizing.

"Hello!" he called out. "I see you're after the same game we are."

"Yes, sir," returned Will. "Our camp's out of fresh meat."

The officer ran a critical eye over Brigham. "Do you expect to run down
a buffalo with a horse like that?" said he.

"Why," said Will, innocently, "are buffaloes pretty speedy?"

"Speedy? It takes a fast horse to overhaul those animals on the open
prairie."

"Does it?" said Will; and the officer did not see the twinkle in his
eye. Nothing amuses a man more than to be instructed on a matter that
he knows thoroughly, and concerning which his instructor knows nothing.
Probably every one of the officers had yet to shoot his first buffalo.

"Come along with us," offered the captain, graciously. "We're going to
kill a few for sport, and all we care for are the tongues and a chunk of
the tenderloin; you can have the rest."

"Thank you," said Will. "I'll follow along."

There were eleven buffaloes in the herd, and the officers started after
them as if they had a sure thing on the entire number. Will noticed that
the game was pointed toward a creek, and understanding "the nature of
the beast," started for the water, to head them off.