mpted to go to sleep. At intervals they
discussed the probability of his return, and then they would remain
silent. Nothing could be done that night. They could only await the
morning light, when they would renew their search, and scour the country
in every direction.

It was near midnight, and they were sitting silently around the fire,
when Marengo started to his feet, and uttered three or four loud barks.
The echoes of these had hardly died among the trees when a shrill
whistle was heard at some distance off in the woods.

"Hurrah!" shouted Francois, leaping to his feet at the instant; "that's
Basil's whistle, I'll be bound. I'd know it a mile off. Hurrah!"

Francois' "hurrah!" rang through the woods, and the next moment came
back a loud "Hilloa!" which all recognised as the voice of Basil.

"Hilloa!" shouted the three by the fire.

"Hilloa, my boys! all right!" replied the voice; and a few seconds
after, the tall upright form of Basil himself was seen advancing, under
the glare of the pine-knots. A shout of congratulation was again
raised; and all the party, preceded by Marengo, rushed out to meet the
new-comer. They soon returned, bringing Basil up to the fire, when it
was seen that he had not returned empty-handed. In one hand he carried
a bag of grouse, or "prairie hens," while from the muzzle of his
shouldered rifle there hung something that was at once recognised as a
brace of buffalo tongues.

"_Voila_!" cried Basil, flinging down the bag, "how are you off for
supper? And here," continued he, pointing to the tongues, "here's a
pair of tit-bits that'll make you lick your lips. Come! let us lose no
time in the cooking, for I'm hungry enough to eat either of them raw."

Basil's request was instantly complied with. The fire was raked up,
spits were speedily procured, a tongue and one of the grouse were
roasted; and although Lucien, Francois, and Norman, had already supped
on the "goat's meat," they set to upon the new viands with fresh
appetites. Basil was hungrier than any, for he had been all the while
fasting. It was not because he was without meat, but because he knew
that his comrades would be uneasy about him, and he would not stop to
cook it. Of meat he had enough, since he had slain the two buffaloes to
which the tongues had belonged; and these same buffaloes, he now
informed them, had been the cause of his long absence.

Of course, all were eager to know how the buffaloes could have