r its neck,
and its fore legs bent the wrong way at the knees, and it seemed to have
long feet trailing behind its hind legs, besides being otherwise
misshapen. The mystery is explained when we state that this wolf was
none other than Hawkswing, down on his hands and knees, with a wolf-skin
over his back, and Bertram's blunderbuss-pistol in his hand. He was
creeping cautiously towards a herd of six or seven buffaloes that
chanced to be feeding quietly there, quite unconscious of the near
proximity of so dangerous an enemy.

"I hope the old pistol won't miss fire," whispered Redhand, as he
observed that the wolf paused, evidently for the purpose of examining
the priming.

"I hope," added Bounce, "that the Injun won't miss his aim. He be'n't
used to pistols."

"Never fear," said March with a quiet grin. "If he aims within a yard
o' the brute he's sure to hit, for I loaded the old blunderbuss myself,
an' it's crammed nigh to the muzzle with all sorts o' things, includin'
stones."

At this Big Waller stared, and said emphatically, "It'll bust!" Bertram
felt and looked uneasy, but Bounce shook his head.

"Them old things," said he, "never bust. I've been forty years, off an'
on, in these parts, an' I've always obsarved that old irons o' that sort
_don't_ bust; cause why? they'd ha' busted w'en they wos new, if they'd
bin goin' to bust at all. The fact is, they _can't_ bust. They're too
useless even for that."

"How comes it," inquired Bertram, "that the buffaloes are not afraid of
a wolf? I have been led to understand that wolves are the inveterate
enemies of buffaloes, and that they often attack them."

To this question March, whose head was in close proximity to that of the
artist, replied--

"Ay, the sneakin' brutes will attack a single wounded or worn-out old
buffalo, when it falls behind the herd, and when there are lots o' their
low-minded comrades along with 'em; but the buffaloes don't care a straw
for a single wolf, as ye may see now if ye pay attention to what
Hawkswing's doin'."

Bertram became silent on observing that the Indian had approached to
within about pistol range of the buffalo without attracting particular
attention, and that he was in the act of taking aim at its shoulder.
Immediately a sharp click caused the buffalo to look up, and apprised
the onlookers that the faithless weapon had missed fire; again Hawkswing
pulled the trigger and with a like result. By this time the buffalo,