gains such love carries the dog’s life in his hand. But let him who reads note well, and remember that there is only one coin that can purchase such love, and that is kindness. The coin, too, must be genuine. Kindness merely expressed will not do; it must be felt.
“Hallo, boy; ye’ve bin i’ the wars!” exclaimed Joe, raising himself from his task as Dick and Crusoe returned.
“You look more like it than I do,” retorted Dick.
This was true, for cutting up a buffalo carcass with no other instrument than a large knife is no easy matter. Joe was covered with blood up to the elbows. His hair, happening to have a knack of getting into his eyes, had been so often brushed off with bloody hands that his whole visage was speckled with gore, and his dress was by no means immaculate.
While Dick related his adventure, or mis-adventure, with the bull, Joe and Henri completed the cutting out of of the most delicate portions of the buffalo—namely, the hump on its shoulder, which is a choice piece, much finer than the best beef, and the tongue, and a few other parts. The tongues of buffalo are superior to those of domestic cattle. When all was ready the meat was slung across the pack-horse; and the party, remounting their horses, continued their journey, having first cleansed themselves as well as they could in the rather dirty waters of an old wallow.
“See,” said Henri, turning to Dick and pointing to a circular spot of green as they rode along, “that is one old dry waller.”
“Ay,” remarked Joe; “after the waller dries, it becomes a ring o’ greener grass than the rest o’ the plain, as ye see. ’Tis said the first hunters used to wonder greatly at these myster’ous circles, and they invented all sorts o’ stories to account for ’em. Some said they wos fairy-rings, but at last they comed to know they wos nothin’ more nor less than places where buffaloes wos used to waller in. It’s often seemed to me that if we knowed the raisons o’ things, we wouldn’t be so puzzled wi’ them.”
It was now past noon, and they were thinking of calling a halt for a short rest to the horses and a pipe to themselves, when Joe was heard to give vent to one of those peculiar hisses that always accompanied either surprise or a caution. In the present case it indicated both.
“What now, Joe?”
“Injuns!” ejaculated Joe.
