.

"That's where the Indian gets the better of the white man, Master Bart.
A fall like that would have about knocked all the life out of me. It's
my belief them Injuns likes it, and so you see they can bear so much
that they grow hard to clear away; and in spite of our being so much
more knowing, they're often too much for us."

"But had we not better pull up, Joses?" cried Bart, for they were
tearing along over the plain once more at a tremendous gallop.

"It's no use to try, my lad; the horses won't stop and leave them others
galloping on. You may train horses as much as you like, but there's a
lot of nature left in them, and that you can't eddicate out."

"What do you mean?" panted Bart, for it was hard work riding so fast.

"What do I mean, my boy? why, that horses is used to going in big droves
together, and this puts 'em in mind of it, and they like it. You try
and pull Black Boy in. There, I told you so. See how he gnaws at his
bit and pulls. There's no stopping him, my lad, no more than there is
mine. Let 'em go, my lad. Perhaps we mayn't meet any one we don't want
to meet after all."

Hardly had he spoken before the Beaver raised his arm, and his followers
pulled up as if by magic, forming in quite a small circle close to him,
with their horses' heads almost touching him.

The Beaver signed to Bart and Joses to approach, and room was made for
them to join in the little council which was to be held, and the result
was that being now well out in the plains far north of where they had
originally travelled to reach the mountain, they now headed off to the
west, the Indians separating, and opening out more and more so as to
cover wider ground with their keen eyes, while every little eminence was
climbed so that the horizon could be swept in search of bison.

"Do you think we shall meet with any, Joses?" asked Bart.

"What, buffler, my lad? Well, I hope so. There's never no knowing, for
they're queer beasts, and there's hundreds here to-day, and to-morrow
you may ride miles and miles, and not see a hoof. Why, I've known times
when I've come upon a drove that was miles long."

"Miles, Joses?"

"Yes, Master Bart, miles long. Bulls, and cows, and calves, of all
kinds, from little bits o' things, right up to some as was nearly as big
as their fathers and mothers, only not so rough and fat; and they'd go
on over the plain in little bands. If you was looking at 'em from far
off, it seemed like one