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We observed also several buffaloes, which made us wish that we had time to go and hunt them, for a fat cow would have been welcome. The idea however of going in chase of them was not to be thought of, considering the risk we should run of falling in with Indians who might be on the watch for us.
He had thought at first that some one was trailing the Devil's Tooth outfit, as he had been doing, but now it seemed plain that he himself was the quarry. He flicked the reins on Coaley's satiny neck, and the horse broke at once into a springy, swift trot, following the purposeless winding of the cow path.
In the evening when she had returned from the fields and was milking the cows, and Rose was sitting with a full pail beside a cow that had been milked, she heard the stranger talking with Farmer Rodel in the nearby stable. They were bargaining about a white horse. But how came the white horse in the stable? until then they had had none. "Who is that singing yonder?" the stranger now asked.
Casually, and at first without any objection filed by any one, they had included in their fences many hundreds of thousands of acres of range land to which they had no title whatever. These men like the large-handed cow barons of the Indian Nations, who had things much as they willed in a little unnoted realm all their own had money and political influence.
A cloud of steam arises out of the warmth within. I step inside. My horse raises his head above the stanchion, looks around at me, and strikes his forefoot on the stable floor the best greeting he has at his command for a fine Christmas morning. My cow, until now silent, begins to bawl. I lay my hand on the horse's flank and he steps over in his stall to let me go by.
"Wait," said Napi; and when they had finished eating they changed themselves again into the root digger and the dog. Next morning the wife and the little boy went out to dig roots, and the woman took the root digger with her, while the dog followed the little boy. As they travelled along looking for roots, they passed near a cave, and at its mouth stood a buffalo cow.
There was a sweet smell of hay and new milk, and it was very quiet, the silence only disturbed when an impatient cow stamped her foot or swished her tail at the flies, and was reproved by Ben's deep-toned, "Woa then, stand still."
It was a cow feeding on the chain; he could follow the sound of her neck scrubbing up and down against the post. He ran down over the craggy declivity, fell, and was again on his feet and running forward; the mist had swallowed him unawares.
You might suppose I'd have grown out of it by this time . . . I'll be seventeen next March . . . but it seems that I haven't. Mr. Harrison, is it too much to hope that you'll forgive me? I'm afraid it's too late to get your cow back, but here is the money for her . . . or you can have mine in exchange if you'd rather. She's a very good cow. And I can't express how sorry I am for it all."
It was the low of a cow. They laughed and the master of the house softened his voice. M. Roussillon had been the guest of a great Indian chieftain, who was called the "Gate of the Wabash," because he controlled the river. The chief was an old acquaintance and treated him well. "But I wanted to see you all," Gaspard said. "I was afraid something might have happened to you.
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