The other's hand fell from his rifle-butt.

"Of course, Chuck. He won't attack us, I suppose?"

"You'd like the excuse, eh?" laughed the explorer. "No, he won't attack
us. He's probably got his dinner in that thicket, and heard us coming.
It might be of advantage to the sheep ranchers hereabouts to kill him,
but certainly not to us."

They rode on, leaving the tawny beast still gazing after them. The
Indians were keenly disappointed over not shooting the lion, but neither
boy had cared to do so. They had been too well trained to slaughter
needlessly; Jack, in particular, had no small share of the Cree feeling
that animals are but "little brothers," and more than once thereafter
Charlie heard him mutter the Indian's apology for taking life, as he
shot.

Upon rejoining the wagons a halt was made, Gholab Singh taking charge of
the gazelles. After a good dinner the four white men rode on ahead,
following the rude track across the veldt, and the wagons were speedily
out of sight.

"This looks a whole lot like the Alberta and Montana country," declared
Charlie as they rode along. "With those hills off in the distance, and
the dry gullies fringed with trees, a fellow might think he was just
pushing across our own range land. Wouldn't this be a swell cow country,
Jack?"

"Looks like it," rejoined the Cree. "Look at those ostriches! Isn't that
a ranch, up there among those buttes?"

By the aid of their glasses they could see a small ranch-house, a good
four miles away, but clear-cut and distinct in the rarefied atmosphere
of the plateau. White dots were scattered near by, which Schoverling
declared were sheep.

"They must suffer to some extent from wild animals," he said, "but on
the whole the sheep ranges up here are in fine shape. It's a great
little old country, boys. If I could make up my mind to settle down I'd
like to take up a few thousand acres back near the hills and try
irrigation."

"It is too dry," nodded the doctor wisely. "Some day they will irrigate
all this. Then the animals will be gone, all gone."

"What of it?" said Jack slyly. "Folks will come just the same to see the
masterpieces made by the great von Hofe! The sooner the game goes, the
more valuable you will be."

"Ach, no!" Von Hofe shook his head sadly. "It is not nice to see the
fine animals be killed off. Look at South Africa--all the game is gone,
all the Zulu kingdoms are gone, and instead there is railroads and mines
and factories. It