"Yes, I should," cried Chris eagerly. "I want to get the glass and look
round. I think I could make out the mountains on the old map if I saw
them."

"Very nice if you could," said Griggs dryly. "But it's early morning
yet. You wait till afternoon, and then see if you wish the same. I
think you'll fancy we've had enough of it for one day, and want to get
back to camp for supper."

"Oh, I don't know," said Chris merrily. "I'm not always thinking of
eating like Ned is."

"Eh? Oh, I say! I like that! Why, I never do."

"Didn't you grumble just now about the time when we should have nothing
but meat and water? Here--I say--Griggs, what's that--I mean those?
There's more than one."

"Yes; keep quiet. More than twenty, my lads."

"Not Indians, are they?" whispered Chris with bated breath.

"Where?--where?" panted Ned.

"Over yonder--half-a-mile away. You can just see their black heads
above the grass. They're watching us."

"What, in that open grassy piece with those trees? Yes, I see now.
I'll canter forward and tell them."

"No, no, sit still and go steadily on. I don't want 'em scared. It's a
sight worth seeing. They're getting scarce now; nearly all have been
shot up in the north."

"Yes, I know they're getting scarce up there," said Chris excitedly,
while Ned's eyes began to open wider and wider. "But we ought to warn
my father."

"Nay, I dare say he sees them by now."

"Shout to him in case he doesn't," said Chris excitedly.

"No, no," replied Griggs, who was shading his eyes to keep off the sun.
"They'd hear us if I shouted, and be off at once."

"But I'm afraid they'll begin shooting."

"Who'll begin shooting?"

"Those Indians."

Griggs turned in his saddle to look wonderingly at the speaker, and then
his features began to relax, but grew hard again at once, and he said
quietly--

"Oh, I see--shoot at us. Why, they're doing that now, and making
bulls'-eyes."

"What do you mean?" cried Chris sharply. "What have I said? Here, Ned,
he's laughing at us."

"That I wasn't," cried Griggs. "I only nearly smiled. Why, do you mean
to tell me that you don't know what those are?"

"Indians, aren't they? Blackheads or blackfeet--I don't know."

"That's very evident," said Griggs grimly. "Why, they're buffaloes--
bisons, staring at us with their heads just above the grass."

"Oh-h-h!" cried Chris. "So they are."

"Then they mean beef," cried Ned excitedly.

"There, what