hat it faces the
west? They place them that way to propitiate their gods. A skull hardly
lasts more than three years on the prairie, which means that this animal
was killed about that long ago. It is more than likely that he was an
old, renegade bull, wandering far from the herd to die alone. The
significant fact is, however, that not more than three years ago he
grazed here and was here killed by an Indian; coupled to that is another
significant fact, about one hundred thousand buffalo skins are taken to
the settlements every year. Remembering both those facts and adding
another, that it will be some days before we see even such a bull on the
very outskirts of the buffalo range, what does it mean? And here is a
fact I nearly overlooked; those hundred thousand skins taken each year
are from cow buffalo." He shook his head sadly. "The day of the buffalo,
countless as their numbers still are, is fast setting. Their range is
shrinking hour by hour, almost; and a comparatively few years more will
see them gone. Wait till you witness the brainless slaughter when the
herds are met with. Ah, well, we are a prodigal race, Miss Cooper,
spending our natural heritage with almost a drunken recklessness. If it
were drunken there might be found some excuse for us; but we are doing
it in our sober senses. Excuse me, when I get to thinking along those
lines I'm afraid I get a little fanatical. There's something more
interesting," he said, pointing to the north. "See it?"

After a moment's intense scrutiny she shook her head, and looked up at
him inquiringly.

"I forget that you haven't a plainsman's eyes," he laughed, "accustomed
to focussing for long distances. Why, over there, well beyond that
series of flat-topped prairie swells, is a red handkerchief waving
lazily in the air. It is fastened to a ramrod, and I'm willing to bet
that it belongs to Hank Marshall. He has been grumbling about a steady
diet of bacon. Now that we are getting into antelope country, his
disappearance from his trained mules is easily explained. I can promise
you and Uncle Joe antelope meat tonight. He never would have planted
that flag if he hadn't seen his victim; and while we are a long way off,
let's ride on so he won't be able to blame us if he fails to get his
shot."

Patience was laughing heartily, and hurriedly explained the cause of her
mirth.

"I saw him tie the bell to that old mule's neck. The sudden pride she
showed, the quick alertness of th