he walked. At
length, after what to Joe seemed a very long time, the hunter
paused.

"Are we near enough?" whispered Joe, breathlessly.

"Nope. We're just circlin' on 'em. The wind's not right, an' I'm
afeered they'll get our scent."

Wetzel rose carefully and peeped over the top of the grass; then,
dropping on all fours, he resumed the advance.

He paused again, presently and waited for Joe to come up.

"See here, young fellar, remember, never hurry unless the bizness
calls fer speed, an' then act like lightnin'."

Thus admonishing the eager lad, Wetzel continued to crawl. It was
easy for him. Joe wondered how those wide shoulders got between the
weeds and grasses without breaking, or, at least, shaking them. But
so it was.

"Flat now," whispered Wetzel, putting his broad hand on Joe's back
and pressing him down. "Now's yer time fer good practice. Trail yer
rifle over yer back--if yer careful it won't slide off--an' reach
out far with one arm an' dig yer fingers in deep. Then pull yerself
forrard."

Wetzel slipped through the grass like a huge buckskin snake. His
long, lithe body wormed its way among the reeds. But for Joe, even
with the advantage of having the hunter's trail to follow, it was
difficult work. The dry reeds broke under him, and the stalks of
saw-grass shook. He worked persistently at it, learning all the
while, and improving with every rod. He was surprised to hear a
swish, followed by a dull blow on the ground. Raising his head, he
looked forward. He saw the hunter wipe his tomahawk on the grass.

"Snake," whispered Wetzel.

Joe saw a huge blacksnake squirming in the grass. Its head had been
severed. He caught glimpses of other snakes gliding away, and glossy
round moles darting into their holes. A gray rabbit started off with
a leap.

"We're near enough," whispered Wetzel, stopping behind a bush. He
rose and surveyed the plain; then motioned Joe to look.

Joe raised himself on his knees. As his gaze reached the level of
the grassy plain his heart leaped. Not fifty yards away was a great,
shaggy, black buffalo. He was the king of the herd; but ill at ease,
for he pawed the grass and shook his huge head. Near him were
several cows and a half-grown calf. Beyond was the main herd,
extending as far as Joe could see--a great sea of black humps! The
lad breathed hard as he took in the grand sight.

"Pick out the little fellar--the reddish-brown one--an' plug him
behind the shoulder. Shoot