The stock of bear-meat was not touched--
with the exception of a small piece, which, with the heads and other
refuse parts of the grouse, formed the supper of Marengo. As soon as
they had finished eating, the hunters spread their buffalo-robes upon
the grass; and, drawing their blankets over them, went off into a sound
sleep.

This night they were not disturbed. When awake they could hear the
howling of wolves upon the distant prairie, and near their camp. But
they were used to this serenading music, and did not regard it. All
three slept soundly throughout the live-long night.

They were awake by grey dawn, and felt quite refreshed. They watered
their horses, and prepared their breakfast of jerked bear-meat. This is
not bad eating at any time; but to appetites like theirs it was a luxury
indeed; and they broke their fast cleverly enough--eating nearly a pound
a-piece. They all felt quite merry and jocund. Marengo was merry,
though the claws of the cougar had scored his countenance sadly.
Jeanette, too, frisked about, kicking at the flies as she fed. Basil
had given her shanks a fresh touch of the bear's grease; and the scars
which the cougar had made were likely to cicatrise speedily. They
remained all next day by that sweet spring, and enjoyed another night of
undisturbed rest. On the second morning they continued their journey,
and in a few days reached the "Cross Timbers,"--those celebrated groves
that have so long puzzled the speculations of the curious naturalist.
Our travellers did not remain long by them--as they saw no signs of the
buffalo--but kept still farther to the west, crossing the head-waters of
numerous streams that run into the river Brazos.

About the third day, after leaving the Cross Timbers, they encamped on
one of these streams--a very small one--that meandered through the
prairie, without any timber upon its banks. But our travellers did not
feel the want of this, as they could make their fire out of an article--
the sight of which had been gladdening their eyes during the whole of
that day's journey. It was the _bois de vache_, or buffalo "chips," as
it is called by the trappers; and they knew that where this was found,
the buffaloes themselves would not be far off. They had now got within
the _range_ of these animals; and might expect to fall in with them at
any moment.

As soon as the next day dawned, the eyes of our hunters sought the
prairie, but as yet no buffaloes were