ALTHOUGH George and Victor Shelton parted for the time from Deerfoot with regret, it cannot be said that either felt any misgiving. There could be no doubt of the Shawanoe’s ability to track them all the way to the Pacific if necessary, for the trail would be plain except when they took to the water, which was not likely to be for a long time to come. Moreover, Mul-tal-la had said that little was to be feared from the Indians of the country through which they must make their way. Had the boys been alone danger might threaten, for most of the hunters and trappers who penetrated those vast solitudes looked upon and treated the red men as their enemies, and naturally were thus looked upon and treated in their turn.

The Blackfoot and his companion met with no trouble of this nature on their eastward journey. They were always able to make clear their meaning by signs, and the fact that the two belonged to the same race with the different tribes was a sufficient passport. It seemed reasonable, therefore, to believe that the presence of Mul-tal-la gave all the protection that could be needed.

The Blackfoot took Deerfoot’s place as leader, the brothers riding a little to the rear, with Zigzag plodding in his usual indifferent fashion. Just now the chief concern of the boys was as to how they were to obtain a meal, for the thought of going to sleep without food was intolerable.

To the left, in the direction of the foothills, they descried a half-dozen elk browsing; but the game were as timid as antelopes, without their fatal defect of overwhelming curiosity, and they made off long before our friends could get within range. Several miles to the eastward a dark undulating mass which covered hundreds of acres showed where another vast herd of bison were moving southward. Victor was disposed to ask Mul-tal-la to change their course so as to get a shot at one of the animals, but his brother urged him to wait in the hope of a better chance to bring down something edible.

An hour later this chance presented itself. Three graceful antelopes came in sight as the horsemen rode over an elevation. They were cropping the grass on the slope of a hill nearly a half-mile distant. George brought his glass to his eye and saw that the alert creatures had already caught sight of them. They were standing with heads erect and staring at the strangers, ready to dash off like the wind on the first demonstration or further move toward them.

“There’s our supper!” exclaimed Victor, as the three halted, for the Blackfoot was also interested in the sight. “I know they aren’t the best food in the world, but I’m too hungry to be particular. Mul-tal-la, how are we to manage it?”

“I will let my brother shoot one of them,” replied the Blackfoot, who, as you know, had caught Deerfoot’s manner of speech.

“That suits me. George, you don’t mind. It will be your turn next time.”

“I’m satisfied,” returned his brother; “but you must remember and not let your impatience run away with you. Keep cool or we shall have to go without supper.”

“Don’t fear for me,” remarked the ardent Victor, who slipped out of the saddle and set off without delay; “I know what’s at stake.”

Had he gone directly toward the antelopes they would have been off on the instant. Instead, he went back over the ridge just crossed, thus interposing that screen between him and the animals. By following this he could approach within a fourth of a mile of the game, and from that moment the utmost caution and skill would be necessary. His brother and the Blackfoot withdrew so as to occupy a position on the crest of the elevation, where they could observe the actions of Victor from the beginning and at the same time keep an eye upon the antelopes themselves.

The latter fixed their attention upon the point where the horsemen had first come into view, hesitating whether to break away in swift flight or to wait until they could gratify their resistless curiosity. George Shelton and Mul-tal-la had dismounted, and lying down in the grass, took care not to show themselves, through fear of alarming the game, for, if the antelopes should make off, slight chance of securing a meal would remain.

Meanwhile Victor was stealing along the ridge until, as he judged, he had reached a point nearly opposite the animals, who were a furlong distant. Then he crept up the elevation, whose crest fortunately was crowned with the same exuberant growth of grass that grew in the valley beyond.

So painstaking was he that his friends lost sight of him and did not know when he was at the crest of the elevation until the antelopes showed by their excitement that they had detected him. They had resumed cropping the grass, when all three abruptly raised their heads and dashed off at the height of their astonishing speed. A moment later Victor was seen running down the slope until a little beyond the base, when he dropped on his face.

Immediately after, while his body was screened from sight, he raised the ramrod of his rifle, with his cap on the upper end. The lower point was pushed down into the earth so that unaided it supported the headgear. He had improved on the method of the Blackfoot.

At first it looked as if this artifice had come too late, for the antelopes continued running. When first seen they were in a valley-like depression with a width of a third of a mile. They made a pretty picture as they skimmed up the opposite slope with their bodies showing in relief against the green background.

The cap, however, on top of the ramrod was so conspicuous that they were not long in discovering it. The three stopped, turned sideways and stood a few minutes gazing intently at the strange object. Then all three broke into a gentle trot toward it, keeping side ............