"Yes," said Henry, "it is wonderful, but, Paul, this is nothing to what
you can see on the great plains. When I was a captive with the
northwestern Indians I've seen a herd that was passing our party all day,
and it was also so wide you could not see across it."
They stood there some time looking. The huge, savage bulls were on the
outskirts of the herd, and just beyond them at the fringe of the forest
were snarling timber wolves, waiting for a chance to drag down some
careless calf, or a bull weakened to the last degree by old age.
As the two youths looked they heard a shot and saw a movement among the
buffaloes. Another shot followed and then a half dozen. The portion of the
herd near by seemed suddenly to contract and to roll in upon itself. The
waiting wolves disappeared in the woods, and snorts of terror arose from
the herd.
"There they are! I see them!" exclaimed Paul. "It is the Spaniards, sure
enough!"
Five or six men in the Spanish military attire burst from the forest, not
more than a hundred yards away, and continued to fire as fast as they
could into the herd.
"How foolish!" exclaimed Henry. "Either they are wasting their shots or if
they don't waste them they are killing far more buffaloes than they can
use!"
The boys withdrew into a thicket, as they did not wish to be seen by the
Spaniards, and watched closely.
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