ride ahead then, and you follow with the boys as soon as
you are ready?"

This was agreed to, and in a minute the young officer was off once more,
urging his horse forward at the animal's best speed.

"Now I can take my time," declared old Benson. "Sorry I aint got my
hunting-knife."

"Where is it?"

"It was lost in the shuffle with those desperadoes I put in the hole."
The old scout chuckled. "My! my! how they must love me for putting 'em
down there!"

"They'll have it in for you when they get out," remarked Darry.

"Oh, I'm not afraid, lad."

The buffalo had fallen into something of a heap, and it took their
combined efforts to turn the huge carcass over. Then old Benson got out
his clasp-knife, sharpened the blade upon the leather of his boot, and
set to work, the boys assisting him as much as possible, which was not
much, since the process was entirely new to them.

"That will be a load," said Joe, when they had the skin and a part of
the head free. "How much do they weigh, Benson?"

"Close on to a hundred pounds."

"And how shall we carry that load?"

"We'll tie it up into something of a long bundle and take turns at
toting it behind our saddles. Of course we won't be able to move along
as fast as before, but that won't be necessary, now the captain has gone
ahead to break the news."

The trail now led toward the river where Darry had almost lost his life
by being hit with the drifting tree. The path was uncertain in spots,
and they had to be careful for fear of getting into some boggy hole.

"What a splendid place for a ranch home!" suggested Darry. "Benson, I am
surprised that there are so few cabins in this neighborhood."

"There used to be quite a number through here, lad; but the Modoc and
other Indians burnt them all down. I suppose new settlers will come in,
now the Indians are behaving themselves."

"But are they behaving themselves?" questioned Joe.

"They are doing a good deal better than formerly, Joe. There is only one
old chief in this neighborhood who seems to want to cause trouble."

"And who is that?"

"White Ox. He is some sort of a relative to Sitting Bull, so I've been
told, and he won't give in that the white man is master of the
situation. He has tried to get his warriors to rise against us several
times, but so far he hasn't accomplished much."

"Where is White Ox now?"

"Over behind yonder mountain to the north. He is chief of a band that
numbers between a hundred a