mp had to be pitched in rain, and mornings when
he was obliged to rise stiff and sore to find the cattle strayed away
and everything wet and grimy. But the sunshine soon warmed his back and
dried up the mud under his feet. Each day the way grew drier and the
flowers more abundant. Each day signs of the wild life thickened.
Antlers of elk, horns of the buffalo, crates of bones set around shallow
water holes, and especially the ever-thickening game trails furrowing
the hills filled the boy's heart with delight. This was the kind of life
he wished to see. They were now beyond towns, and only occasionally
small settlements relieved the houseless rolling plains. Soon the
Missouri, that storied and muddy old stream, would offer itself to view.

"Mose" was now indispensable to the Pratt "outfit." He built fires, shot
game, herded the cattle, greased the wagons, curried horses, and mended
harness. He never complained and never grew sullen. Although he talked
but little, the family were fond of him, but considered him a "singular
critter." He had lost his pallor. His skin was a clear brown, and being
dressed in rough clothing, wide hat, and gauntlet gloves, he made a bold
and dashing herder, showing just the right kind of wear and tear.
Occasionally, when a chance to earn a few dollars offered, Pratt camped
and took a job, and Harold shared in the wages.

He spent a great deal of his pocket money in buying cartridges for his
revolver. He shot at everything which offered a taking mark, and became
so expert that Dan bowed down before him, and Mrs. Pratt considered him
dangerous.

"It ain't natural fer to be so durned sure-pop on game," she said one
day. "Doggone it, I'd want 'o miss 'em once in a while just fer to be
aigged on fer to try again. First you know, you'll be obliged fer to
shoot standin' on your haid like these yere champin' shooters that go
'round the kentry givin' shows, you shorely will, Mose."

Mose only laughed. "I want to be just as good a shot as anybody," he
said, turning to Pratt.

"You'll be it ef you don't wear out your gun a-doin' of it," replied the
boss.

These were splendid days. Each sundown they camped nearer to the land of
the buffalo, and when the work was done and the supper eaten, Mose took
his pipe and his gun and walked away to some ridge, there to sit while
the yellow light faded out of the sky. He was as happy as one of his
restless nature could properly hope to be, but sometimes when he