"Do you hear anything _now_?"

Yes, there could be no mistaking it, faint though it was. All three sat motionless and listened. At first, it might have been taken for the far-off rumble of thunder--a fluttering, distant rattle, such as is occasionally heard during the hot summer months. It was not exactly of that character, either, being more like a continuous rattle, coming from some point many miles away.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked Tom, of the lad.

"I never heard anything like it before. What is it?"

"Does it sound like the tramp of animals?"

"Not much, it seems to me. It can't be that."

"That's just what it is."

Ned started.

"So it is--so it is. I can notice it now. I hear the sound of horses hoofs on the prairie. The sound is growing more distinct, too, and they must be coming this way, Tom. Is that so?"

"That's just what's the matter. We'll see 'em all inside of half an hour, unless we turn tail and run."

"Let's do it, then, for there can't be much time to spare."

The hunters showed no disposition to flee from the danger approaching, and Ned began to grow alarmed.

"Why do you stay here?" he asked. "If your horses are so fleet that no one can catch them, what is the use of letting them do it?"

"Don't get scart, my boy," returned Tom Hardynge. "We'll take care of you."

He much preferred that they should all take care of themselves by giving their animals the rein and permitting the Apaches to make no nearer approach. But the scouts were obstinate and remained as motionless as statues. The tramping of myriad feet came nearer and nearer, until the sound partook of one general, thunderous undertone of the most trying character to the lad. It seemed to him so much like suicide--this waiting for a terrible danger as it steadily approached--that he was strongly tempted to start his horse away on his own account.

"Look!" called out Morris, pointing toward the southwest.

Following the direction indicated, the lad saw what appeared to be a heavy cloud lying low down in the horizon, but creeping slowly upward, like the sulphurous vapor that sometimes hovers over a battle field.

"What is it?" he asked, terrified, knowing that it was not the presage of a storm such as sometimes sweeps over the prairies.

There was something strange and unnatural in its appearance, accompanied, as it was, by the tremulous, thunderous rumbling. By and by, as this uproar came nearer and nearer, a still more curious sight presented itself. The prairie seemed agitated, trembling and quivering with a peculiar, wave-like motion, such as the ocean shows when it is subsiding after a severe storm. There was a sea, a living sea, spreading tumultuously over the plain. Dark, heaving ma.s.ses were constantly verging nearer, as they moved rapidly toward the northeast. Suddenly light broke in upon the mind of Ned Chadmund.

"I know what it is!" he exclaimed. "They are buffaloes."

"Correct," a.s.sented Tom, with a laugh. "They are pa.s.sing pretty close, but we're out of their way."

The buffaloes surged so near to where the three hors.e.m.e.n stood that more than once Ned started with a fear that they would be overwhelmed; but the hunters showed such calmness and self-possession that he was rea.s.sured. All at once a furious trampling was heard, and two of the animals that had become separated from the others in some way, dashed directly by the hors.e.m.e.n and out upon the prairie.

"Now, Ned," called out Tom; "there's your chance! Take that head one! He will make you a good supper if you can fetch him down!"

The lad and his animal were seized with a sudden inspiration seemingly at the same time. Just as the heart of the young hunter swelled with a wild desire to bring down the n.o.ble game, the mustang bounded away in pursuit of the very buffalo which had been indicated by the trapper. As the rider saw himself drawing rapidly near the huge body, lumbering awkwardly but rapidly along, he was seized with a fluttering which, perhaps was natural, but which, unless overcome, was fatal to any hopes of procuring any supper. The mustang drew steadily nearer, Ned's agitation increasing every minute, until pursuer and pursued were running side by side.

This was the critical moment when the rider should have fired, and when the horse had been taught to expect him to do so; but when our hero raised the heavy Indian gun to his shoulder, his trembling, together with the jolting of his mustang, now upon a dead run, told him that it would be useless to fire, when the only chance of hitting his prey was by the merest accident. Accordingly, he lowered his gun, in the hopes of quieting his nerves, so as to bring himself up to the self-appointed task. As he did so, his horse began shying off from the buffalo. He was afraid of the horns of the enraged creature, and having given him all the opportunity he could expect, he was not willing to keep him company any longer. The paths continued to diverge until they were twenty yards apart, when the mustang appeared to think all danger was pa.s.sed. By this time Ned Chadmund felt that he was master of himself, and he turned the head of his horse toward the immense fugitive, still gliding forward at the same terrific rate.

"I'll fetch him this time," he muttered, with a determined air.

CHAPTER XXV.

ALONE AGAIN.

The mustang, trained as he was to this sort of hunting, steadily drew up again to the buffalo, which was plunging forward with unabated speed, while Ned held his rifle ready to fire whenever the critical moment should come. He concluded that the proper place at which to aim was the head, and, drawing his gun to his shoulder, he did not hesitate, although he knew the aim was anything but a good one. It struck the bison beyond all question, but did no more than irritate him; for, without any other warning than a sudden lowering of the head, he wheeled, and turned directly upon the horse, with the evident purpose of disemboweling him.

But the latter had seen this sort of business before, and was prepared for it.

Without attempting to turn to the one side or the other, or to check his speed in the least, he made a terrific flying leap upward, going clear over the head of the buffalo, landing upon the other side, and continuing his flight at his leisure, as it may be said.

This was a clever trick of the mustang, but it proved the undoing of his rider, who had no other saddle than the Indian blanket strapped to the horse's back. This was good enough, except in such a sudden emergency as the present, when Ned was entirely unprepared for it. It was done in a twinkling, the end of it being that he found himself lying upon the green sward of the prairie, considerably bruised, and with horse and buffalo rapidly speeding from view.

"This is a go," said the lad, rising to his feet and looking about him.

"I don't see where the fun of buffalo hunting comes in."

During the minutes of excitement when the mustang was coursing with such speed over the prairie, the rider had no idea of the direction taken, nor could he conjecture how far he had gone; but the result was that he was separated by a much greater distance than he supposed from his friends. Ned stood and gazed carefully about him. Off to the west were the dust, and thousands upon thousands of buffaloes. The latter were too far removed to be distinguished, but that tramping and the heavy cloud indicated where the ma.s.s of life was plunging tumultuously forward toward some destination unknown even to themselves. Nothing was to be seen of the hunters. They had sent the lad off on this hunt on purpose to give him a taste of buffalo hunting, not supposing, of course, that any accident would result.

"What shall I do?" was the question the boy asked himself, as he stood, rifle in hand, and looked around him. "If there was some way in which I could get a good supper, I wouldn't mind this camping out, for Tom and d.i.c.k will be sure to find me in the morning."

Looking toward the north, he fancied that he dimly discerned the dark outline of something which resembled a grove of trees, and he turned his footsteps in that direction.

"If they are trees," he reflected, as he trudged along, "it's more than likely there's water there, and now that I've got a gun, I've some chance of shooting something; and that reminds me of poor Corporal Hugg's warning, always to reload my gun the first thing after firing it."

He had enough sense to carry out this resolution on the spot, and then he resumed his journey in the direction of the object that had attracted his attention. A short distance further he was pleased to find his first impression correct. He was approaching a clump of trees where he could rest with a much greater sense of security than upon the open prairie.

Thoroughly weary and worn out, faint with hunger, he felt like throwing himself upon the ground and sleeping for a week. But, continuing, he entered a grove of trees something like a hundred yards in extent, through which, in the stillness of the night, he caught distinctly the ripple of flowing water. It required but a moment to discover this and he lay down upon the margin, quaffed his full and flung himself upon the gra.s.s to sleep until morning. Five minutes after his eyes were shut he was wrapped in a sound slumber which remained undisturbed until morning when, as he opened his eyes, he found the sun shining through the branches upon him.

"Gracious!" he exclaimed, starting up. "Where am I?"

It took several minutes before he could collect his senses and tell where he was; and then as he recalled the separation from his friends, he hurried out to the edge of the wood in the hope of discovering them somewhere near at hand; but, look in whatsoever direction he chose, nothing was to be seen but the broad sweeping prairie, stretching away until sky and earth joined in the distance. Far off, low down in the horizon, the blue wavy outline of a mountain spur was to be seen. Miles and miles away, it would probably require days of traveling before it could be reached.

"That's strange!" murmured Ned, as a feeling of alarm began stealing over him. "Where can Tom and d.i.c.k be? They must be somewhere in this neighborhood, and yet I cannot see any signs of them."

He moved around the grove, carefully gazing in every direction; but after making the complete circuit he came back without having detected anything that told him what had become of his friends.

The grove in which he had taken shelter abounded with undergrowth, so dense in many places, that he made his way with considerable difficulty.

He had no thought of any one else being in the same place, but, while moving along in his careless manner, he was aroused to a sense of imprudence by the sound of something on his right. Turning his head, his surprise may be imagined when he saw a solitary buffalo standing scarcely a dozen feet distant, and staring straight at him. Ned was so astonished that for the moment he forgot that he carried a loaded gun, and stared at the creature in turn, the two forming as striking a tableau as it is possible to imagine.

The buffalo may have known the capacity of the weapon which the boy carried in his hand, for, with a sniff of alarm, he wheeled and started away on a run. As quick as thought the lad seemed to awake to a sense of his situation, and, raising his gun, he blazed away.

The shot, fired at random, could not have been better aimed by the most veteran of hunters. The ball entered directly behind the fore-leg just as it was thrown forward in the act of running, and, penetrating to the heart, the result was that the animal never made another bound. His own momentum carried him a few feet forward, when he tumbled and rolled over in a heap.

"Now I'll have a meal!" exclaimed the delighted lad, as he ran forward to claim his prize. "I feel as if I could eat the whole buffalo."