ounce, without knowing why, joined him.

"Well, it's of no use looking blue about it," said March Marston, making
an effort to cheer up; "the question to be settled now is, What's to be
done?"

"Ay, _that_ is the question," observed Bertram gravely.

"Wall now, that _bein'_ the kee-westion," said Waller, "whose a-goin' to
answer it? There's a chance now, lads; but don't all speak at once."

"Right; that's wot it is," observed Bounce, nodding; "that's the
feelosophy on it. When a feller's turned upside down, wot's he a-goin'
to do nixt? You can't put no other construction on it in this here
wurld."

Redhand, who had been ruminating abstractedly for some minutes, now
looked round on his comrades and said--

"Here's a plan for you, lads. That outrageous villain the Big Snake
lives, for the most part, in a pretty little spot just three days' march
from this place. He stole, as ye all know, the horses belongin' to Mr
Bertram's party. Well, I propose that we shud go an' call on him, an'
make him stand an' re-deliver. What say you?"

"Agreed," cried Waller, tossing his cap into the air. "Hurrah!" shouted
March Marston. In one way or another, each gave his consent to the plan
of making a descent upon the robbers and causing them to make
restitution.

The plans of backwoodsmen, once formed, are always quickly put in
execution. They had no arrangements to make, no portmanteaus to pack,
no difficulties in the way to overcome. Each man strapped a portion of
the remaining property on his broad shoulders, and, pushing into the
forest with vigorous strides, they were soon far from the spot where
their late disaster had occurred, and gradually drew near to the wild
glens and gorges of the Rocky Mountains.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A WOLFISH WAY OF KILLING BUFFALOES DESCRIBED--BOUNCE BECOMES
METAPHYSICAL ON THE FINE ARTS--BUTCHERING ENLARGED ON--A GLORIOUS FEAST,
AND SKETCHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

One of the ancient poets has said that wandering through the wild woods
is a pleasant thing. At least, if one of them has not said that, he
ought to have said it, and, certainly, many of them must have thought
it, whether they said it or not. Undoubtedly, if future historians
record faithfully all that has been said and written from the
commencement of time to the period in which they flourish, they will
embalm the fact that at least one prose writer of the present day has
enunciated that incontrovertible proposition.