an he wuz, an' perhaps a lot brighter in some ways."

"Go on, you supreme egotist," said Brady in his usual solemn tones,
"climb the tree, where I cannot hear your voice, and stay there a long
time."

The Little Giant was more serious than he pretended to be. He was fully
aware that they had lost at least seventy-five per cent of their
security when they descended from the high mountains. On the plains it
was difficult to fortify against attack, and he did not like the
appearance of the Indians, even as hunters on the far side of the
buffalo herd. Hence, when he had made himself comfortable in one of the
highest forks of a cottonwood, his examination through the glasses was
long and critical. He saw, just as Will had seen, the herd coming
forever from under the southeastern rim of the horizon and disappearing
forever under the northwestern rim. Then he caught glimpses of the
hunters still pursuing and cutting out the fat young cows, but instead
of being parallel with the little party in the dip they had now passed
far beyond it. Then he descended the tree and spoke what he thought.

"Jim Boyd, hunter, Steve Brady, trapper, an' young William," he said,
"I'm of the opinion that we'd better stay here at least one day an'
night. The river o' buffaloes will be flowin' by at least that long, but
ef we wuz to go on an' they wuz to pass us, we might meet the warriors
with no river in between, an' we ain't looking fur that."

"Good advice," said Brady. "When the conquerors went down into the land
of Canaan they used every chance that nature or circumstance offered
them, and why shouldn't we, even though three thousand years or so have
elapsed? We will build no fire, but repose calmly in our little clump of
trees."

"Good judgment," said Boyd.

"Pleases me," said Will.

All day long and all that night the herd, as wide and dense as ever, was
passing. They might have slain enough to feed a great army, but they did
not fire a shot. The sight, whether by daylight or moonlight, did not
lose its romance and majesty for the lad. It was a black sea, flowing
and living, one of the greatest spectacles of the mighty western
wilderness, and it was given to him to look upon it.

He grew so used to it by and by that he had no thought of its turning
from its course or of its throwing out stragglers like little, diverging
currents. It would go on in a vast flood, straight into the unknown,
wherever it intended to go.

The horses and