"There's no lack o' game here," said Dick Varley, pointing to a herd
of buffaloes which rose at their approach and fled away towards the
wood.
"I think we'll ha' thunder soon," remarked Joe. "I never feel it
onnatteral hot like this without lookin' out for a plump."
"Ha! den ve better look hout for one goot tree to get b'low,"
suggested Henri. "Voila!" he added, pointing with his finger towards
the plain; "dere am a lot of wild hosses."
A troop of about thirty wild horses appeared, as he spoke, on the brow
of a ridge, and advanced slowly towards them.
"Hist!" exclaimed Joe, reining up; "hold on, lads. Wild horses! my
rifle to a pop-gun there's wilder men on t'other side o' them."
"What mean you, Joe?" inquired Dick, riding close up.
"D'ye see the little lumps on the shoulder o' each horse?" said Joe.
"Them's Injun's _feet_; an' if we don't want to lose our scalps we'd
better make for the forest."
Joe proved himself to be in earnest by wheeling round and making
straight for the thick wood as fast as his horse could run.
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