his way through the bushes, came to the prairie and saw that it
was black with the herd.

The buffalo, although numerous east of the Mississippi, invariably
grazed in small bands, owing to the wooded nature of the country, and
the present herd, four or five hundred at least, was the largest that
Henry had ever seen away from the Great Plains. As the wind was blowing
from him toward them, and they showed, nevertheless, no sign of flight,
he surmised that the weaker members had been harassed much by wolves,
and that the herd was unwilling to move from its present place of rest.
They shuffled and puffed and panted, but there was no alarm.

He stood a few moments and gazed at them, his look full of friendliness.
The Indians hunted the buffalo and they also hunted him. For the time
being these, the most gigantic of North American animals, were his
brethren, and then came his idea.

A little ridge ran into the prairie, terminating in a hillock, and it
was clear of the buffaloes, as they naturally lay in the lower places.
Henry walked down among the buffaloes along the ridge until he came to
the hillock, where he took the blanket from his back, wrapped it about
him, and reclined with his head on his arm. The buffaloes puffed and
snorted and some of them moved uneasily, but they did not get up.
Perhaps Henry was wholly a wild creature himself then and they discerned
in him something akin to themselves, or perhaps they had been harassed
by wolves so much that they would not stir for anything now. But as the
human intruder lay soundless and motionless, they, too, settled into
quiet.

Henry's friendly feeling for the buffaloes increased, and it had full
warrant. He was surrounded by an army of sentinels. He knew that if the
Indians attempted to cross the prairie, coming in a band, they would
rise up at once in alarm, and if he fell asleep he would be awakened
immediately by such a multitudinous sound. Hence he would go to sleep,
and quickly.

If the buffaloes felt their kinship with Henry, he felt his kinship with
them as strongly. Since they had sunk into silence they were like so
many friends around him, ready to fend off danger or to warn him. From
the crest of the low mound upon which he lay he saw the big black forms
dotting the prairie, a ring about him. Then he calmly composed himself
for the slumber which he needed so much.

But sleep did not come as speedily as he had expected. Wolves howled in
the forest, and he k