in
them."

"That is true enough," said Seguin. "We must go round the mountain
before we can expect to fall in with the buffalo. The Indian hunt has
chased them clean off from the Llanos. Come, then! Let us set about
our work at once. We have yet two hours before sunset. What would you
do first, Rube? You have given the plan: I will trust to you for the
details."

"Why, in my opeenyun, cap, the fust thing to be did are to send a man as
straight as he can gallip to whur the band's cached. Let him fotch them
acrost the trail."

"Where should they cross, do you think?"

"About twenty mile north o' hyur thur's a dry ridge, an' a good grist o'
loose donicks. If they cross as they oughter, they needn't make much
sign. I kud take a train o' Bent's waggons over, that 'ud puzzle deaf
Smith to foller 'em. I kud."

"I will send a man off instantly. Here, Sanchez! you have a good horse,
and know the ground. It is not over twenty miles to where they are
cached. Bring them along the ridge, and with caution, as you have
heard. You will find us around the north point of the mountain. You
can travel all night, and be up with us early in the morning. Away!"

The torero, without making any answer, drew his horse from the picket,
leaped into the saddle, and rode off at a gallop towards the north-west.

"It is fortunate," said Seguin, looking after him for some moments,
"that they have trampled the ground about here, else the tracks made in
our last encounter would certainly have told tales upon us."

"Thur's no danger about that," rejoined Rube; "but when we rides from
hyur, cap'n, we mustn't foller their trail. They'd soon sight our back
tracks. We had best keep up yander among the loose donicks." Rube
pointed to the shingle that stretched north and south along the foot of
the mountain.

"Yes, that shall be our course. We can leave this without leaving any
tracks. What next?"

"The next idee ur, to get rid o' yon piece o' machin'ry," and the
trapper, as he spoke, nodded in the direction of the skeleton.

"True! I had forgotten it. What shall we do with it?"

"Bury it," advised one.

"Wagh! no. Burn it!" cried another.

"Ay, that's best," said a third.

The latter suggestion was adopted.

The skeleton was brought down; the stains of the blood were carefully
rubbed from the rocks; the skull was shivered with a tomahawk, and the
joints were broken in pieces. The whole mass was then flung upon the