CHAPTER VII.

said Henri with a broad grin.

Presently a thousand noses appeared, and nervously

disappeared, like the wink of an eye. Then they appeared

again, and a thousand pair of eyes followed.

Instantly, like Jack in the box, they were all on the top

of their hillocks again, chattering and wagging their

little tails as vigorously as ever. You could not say

that you

saw

them jump out of their holes. Suddenly,

as if by magic, they

were

out; then Dick tossed up his

arms, and suddenly, as if by magic, they were gone!

Their number was incredible, and their cities were

full of riotous activity. What their occupations were

the hunters could not ascertain, but it was perfectly

evident that they visited a great deal and gossiped

tremendously, for they ran about from house to house,

and sat chatting in groups; but it was also observed

that they never went far from their own houses. Each

seemed to have a circle of acquaintance in the immediate

neighbourhood of his own residence, to which in case of

sudden danger he always fled.

But another thing about these prairie-dogs (perhaps,

considering their size, we should call them prairie-doggies), another

thing

about them, we say, was that

each doggie lived with an owl, or, more correctly, an

owl lived with each doggie! This is such an extraordinary

fact

that we could scarce hope that men would

believe us, were our statement not supported by dozens

of trustworthy travellers who have visited and written

about these regions. The whole plain was covered with

these owls. Each hole seemed to be the residence of an

owl and a doggie, and these incongruous couples lived

together apparently in perfect harmony.

We have not been able to ascertain from travellers

why

the owls have gone to live with these doggies, so

we beg humbly to offer our own private opinion to the

reader. We assume, then, that owls find it absolutely

needful to have holes. Probably prairie-owls cannot dig

holes for themselves. Having discovered, however, a

race of little creatures that could, they very likely determined

to take forcible possession of the holes made

by them. Finding, no doubt, that when they did so

the doggies were too timid to object, and discovering,

moreover, that they were sweet, innocent little creatures,

the owls resolved to take them into partnership,

and so the thing was settled--that's how it came about,

no doubt of it!

There is a report that rattlesnakes live in these holes

also; but we cannot certify our reader of the truth of

this. Still it is well to be acquainted with a report that

is current among the men of the backwoods. If it be

true, we are of opinion that the doggie's family is the

most miscellaneous and remarkable on the face of--or,

as Henri said, in the bo'-els of the earth.

Dick and his friends were so deeply absorbed in

watching these curious little creatures that they did not

observe the rapid spread of the black clouds over the

sky. A few heavy drops of rain now warned them to

seek shelter, so wheeling round they dashed off at full

speed for the clump of willows, which they gained just

as the rain began to descend in torrents.

"Now, lads, do it slick. Off packs and saddles," cried

Joe Blunt, jumping from his horse. "I'll make a hut

for ye, right off."

"A hut, Joe! what sort o' hut can ye make here?"

inquired Dick.

"Ye'll see, boy, in a minute."

"Ach! lend me a hand here, Dick; de bockle am

tight as de hoss's own skin. Ah! dere all right."

"Hallo! what's this?" exclaimed Dick, as Crusoe

advanced with something in his mouth. "I declare, it's

a bird o' some sort."

"A prairie-hen," remarked Joe, as Crusoe laid the

bird at Dick's feet; "capital for supper."

"Ah! dat chien is superb! goot dog. Come here, I

vill clap you."

But Crusoe refused to be caressed. Meanwhile, Joe

and Dick formed a sort of beehive-looking hut by

bending down the stems of a tall bush and thrusting

their points into the ground. Over this they threw the

largest buffalo robe, and placed another on the ground

below it, on which they laid their packs of goods.

These they further secured against wet by placing

several robes over them and a skin of parchment. Then

they sat down on this pile to rest, and consider what

should be done next.

"'Tis a bad look-out," said Joe, shaking his head.

"I fear it is," replied Dick in a melancholy tone.

Henri said nothing, but he sighed deeply on looking

up at the sky, which was now of a uniform watery gray,

while black clouds drove athwart it. The rain was

pouring in torrents, and the wind began to sweep it in

broad sheets over the plains, and under their slight covering,

so that in a short time they were wet to the skin.

The horses stood meekly beside them, with their tails

and heads equally pendulous; and Crusoe sat before his

master, looking at him with an expression that seemed

to say, "Couldn't you put a stop to this if you were to

try?"

"This'll never do. I'll try to git up a fire," said

Dick, jumping up in desperation.

"Ye may save yerself the trouble," remarked Joe

dryly--at least as dryly as was possible in the circumstances.

However, Dick did try, but he failed signally. Everything

was soaked and saturated. There were no large

trees; most of the bushes were green, and the dead ones

were soaked. The coverings were slobbery, the skins

they sat on were slobbery, the earth itself was slobbery;

so Dick threw his blanket (which was also slobbery)

round his shoulders, and sat down beside his companions

to grin and bear it. As for Joe and Henri, they were

old hands and accustomed to such circumstances. From

the first they had resigned themselves to their fate, and

wrapping their wet blankets round them sat down, side

by side, wisely to endure the evils that they could not

cure.

There is an old rhyme, by whom composed we know

not, and it matters little, which runs thus,--

/*

"For every evil under the sun

There is a remedy--or there's none.

*/

/*

If there is--try and find it;

If there isn't--never mind it!"

*/

There is deep wisdom here in small compass. The

principle involved deserves to be heartily recommended.

Dick never heard of the lines, but he knew the principle

well, so he began to "never mind it" by sitting down

beside his companions and whistling vociferously. As

the wind rendered this a difficult feat, he took to singing

instead. After that he said, "Let's eat a bite, Joe,

and then go to bed."

"Be all means," said Joe, who produced a mass of

dried deer's meat from a wallet.

"It's cold grub," said Dick, "and tough."

But the hunters' teeth were sharp and strong, so they

ate a hearty supper and washed it down with a drink

of rain water collected from a pool on the top of their

hut. They now tried to sleep, for the night was advancing,

and it was so dark that they could scarce see

their hands when held up before their faces. They sat

back to back, and thus, in the form of a tripod, began

to snooze. Joe's and Henri's seasoned frames would

have remained stiff as posts till morning; but Dick's

body was young and pliant, so he hadn't been asleep a

few seconds when he fell forward into the mud and

effectually awakened the others. Joe gave a grunt,

and Henri exclaimed, "Hah!" but Dick was too sleepy

and miserable to say anything. Crusoe, however, rose

up to show his sympathy, and laid his wet head on his

master's knee as he resumed his place. This catastrophe

happened three times in the space of an hour, and by

the third time they were all awakened up so thoroughly

that they gave up the attempt to sleep, and amused

each other by recounting their hunting experiences and

telling stories. So engrossed did they become that day

broke sooner than they had expected, and just in proportion

as the gray light of dawn rose higher into the

eastern sky did the spirits of these weary men rise

within their soaking bodies.

The "wallering" peculiarities of buffalo bulls--The first buffalohunt and its consequences--Crusoe comes to the rescue--Pawneesdiscovered--A monster buffalo hunt--Joe acts the part of ambassador

.

Fortunately the day that succeeded the dreary

night described in the last chapter was warm

and magnificent. The sun rose in a blaze of splendour,

and filled the atmosphere with steam from the moist

earth.

The unfortunates in the wet camp were not slow to

avail themselves of his cheering rays. They hung up

everything on the bushes to dry, and by dint of extreme

patience and cutting out the comparatively dry hearts

of several pieces of wood, they lighted a fire and boiled

some rain-water, which was soon converted into soup.

This, and the exercise necessary for the performance of

these several duties, warmed and partially dried them;

so that when they once more mounted their steeds and

rode away, they were in a state of comparative comfort

and in excellent spirits. The only annoyance was the

clouds of mosquitoes and large flies that assailed men

and horses whenever they checked their speed.

"I tell ye wot it is," said Joe Blunt, one fine morning

about a week after they had begun to cross the prairie,

"it's my 'pinion that we'll come on buffaloes soon. Them

tracks are fresh, an' yonder's one o' their wallers that's

bin used not long agone."

"I'll go have a look at it," cried Dick, trotting away

as he spoke.

Everything in these vast prairies was new to Dick

Varley, and he was kept in a constant state of excitement

during the first week or two of his journey. It

is true he was quite familiar with the names and habits

of all the animals that dwelt there; for many a time and

oft had he listened to the "yarns" of the hunters and

trappers of the Mustang Valley, when they returned

laden with rich furs from their periodical hunting expeditions.

But this knowledge of his only served to

whet his curiosity and his desire to

see

the denizens of

the prairies with his own eyes; and now that his wish

was accomplished, it greatly increased the pleasures of

his journey.

Dick had just reached the "wallow" referred to by

Joe Blunt, and had reined up his steed to observe it

leisurely, when a faint hissing sound reached his ear.

Looking quickly back, he observed his two companions

crouching on the necks of their horses, and slowly descending

into a hollow of the prairie in front of them,

as if they wished to bring the rising ground between

them and some object in advance. Dick instantly followed

their example, and was soon at their heels.

"Ye needn't look at the waller," whispered Joe, "for

a' tother side o' the ridge there's a bull

wallerin

'."

"Ye don't mean it!" exclaimed Dick, as they all dismounted

and picketed their horses to the plain.

"Oui," said Henri, tumbling off his horse, while a

broad grin overspread his good-natured countenance,

"it is one fact! One buffalo bull be wollerin' like a

enormerous hog. Also, dere be t'ousands o' buffaloes

farder on."

"Can ye trust yer dog keepin' back?" inquired Joe,

with a dubious glance at Crusoe.

"Trust him! Ay, I wish I was as sure o' myself."

"Look to yer primin', then, an' we'll have tongues

and marrow bones for supper to-night, I'se warrant.

Hist! down on yer knees and go softly. We might

ha' run them down on horseback, but it's bad to wind

yer beasts on a trip like this, if ye can help it; an' it's

about as easy to stalk them. Leastways, we'll try.

Lift yer head slowly, Dick, an' don't show more nor the

half o't above the ridge."

Dick elevated his head as directed, and the scene that

met his view was indeed well calculated to send an

electric shock to the heart of an ardent sportsman.

The vast plain beyond was absolutely blackened with

countless herds of buffaloes, which were browsing on


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