shooting the long-eared, long-legged little creatures
was not so easy as he had at first imagined. Having failed for the
third time, he handed the gun, in disgust, to the half-breed, saying:
'Here, Baptiste, you try.'

Baptiste eagerly seized the fire-arm, and the next rabbit that was
started he tumbled over neatly. Another and another was shot in quick
succession, and then, returning the gun with a grateful smile, Baptiste
said: 'Now you shoot.'

Hector's next attempt, happily, was not a miss, and encouraged by this,
he kept on with varying success, until, between him and Baptiste,
nearly a dozen rabbits had been bowled over. Then, satisfied with
their bag, they hastened homeward to proudly exhibit the results of
their day's hunting.

'Weel done, laddie, weel done!' exclaimed Mrs. Macrae, patting Hector
fondly. 'Ye'll be getting us mony a gude dinner, I'm thinking.'

CHAPTER IX

The Buffalo Hunt

Soon after the arrival of the Selkirk settlers at Pembina, the people
of the place set about preparing for the great fall buffalo hunt, and
they cordially invited the Scots to join them.

The latter accepted the kind invitation eagerly, and all the men who
had a little money to spare purchased guns and ammunition from the
store-keepers.

For days the settlement and the Scotch camp were full of bustle.
Ponies had to be provided for all the hunters, provisions prepared, as
they would be away probably for ten days or so, and a number of other
things attended to.

Mr. Macrae, having decided to go himself, at first wanted Hector to
remain behind with his mother, but the boy pleaded so earnestly to be
taken, and the loving, self-sacrificing mother, though she dreaded some
mishap, so warmly supported his plea, that, to his abounding joy, his
father consented.

It was an odd-looking cavalcade that set forth from Pembina on a
bright, bracing October morning. The Scotsmen looked very awkward as,
mounted upon Indian ponies, some of which were so small that the long
legs of the riders almost touched the ground, they strove to carry
their guns and keep their seats with some sort of dignity.

The Pembina folk, whether white or half-breed, were all good riders,
and, having taken the pick of the ponies, as was only natural, looked
remarkably well, while half-a-score Indians who were to act as guides
galloped hither and thither, whooping and brandishing their guns by way
of showing off.

Hector was delighted with t