When all three were in their saddles, they rode out to where the two carcasses lay at the foot of the slope. Shagbark compelled Jethro to dismount and help sling the body of the buck across the back of the pony and balance in front of the saddle. Since the animal weighed nearly as much as the African himself, the veteran ordered him to walk beside his horse and hold the burden in place until the party reached camp. The female which had been shot was so much lighter that Shagbark took it on the back of his powerful steed with him. The burden was weighty, but the distance was not far, and all moved at a moderate walk. At the moment of starting, the sun was shining from a clear sky. Ten minutes later the radiance turned a dull leaden hue, and all three were wrapped in the swirl of a furious snow squall. The millions of big flakes, eddied and spun around and so filled the air that they could not see one another, when they were barely ten feet apart. Shagbark called to the two to fall in line behind him and not stop. They bent their heads and pushed on, leaving the direction to the ponies. Presto! the squall ended as quickly as it began. At the close of fifteen minutes not a flake was in the air. The ground was covered with a thin white sheet which speedily melted in the warm rays of the sun. The radius of the curious flurry was so slight that it was speedily left behind them. Jethro led his pony alongside of Alden’s mare. The guide, as was his custom when riding with the emigrant train, kept a brief way in advance, looking straight ahead and paying no attention to the two behind him. “Say, Al, what’s de matter wid Mr. Shagbark?” asked Jethro, lowering his voice. “Nothing; why do you ask?” “What’s he gwine back to de ridge fur? Does he wanter shoot some more antelopes?” It seemed to Alden that the hunter had turned from the direct course, but the youth knew he had good reason for doing so. “If you will look to the right you will see that he isn’t riding toward the ridge.” “Don’t make no difference; we’ll neber git home if we trabel the way he’s gwine now.” “If you think best, you might point out his mistake to him.” “Gorrynation! he’s too touchy for _me_ to put in my oar; you am de one to set him right.” “I must first know that he is wrong; wait until then.” Accordingly Jethro held his peace, though he often muttered to himself. He was silent, however, when the circle of Conestogas, with the men, women and children moving outside and among them came in sight. Shagbark had kept to a bee line from the last starting point to the emigrant camp. The forenoon was not half gone, but Shagbark decided that the party should rest until after the midday meal. As has been explained, there was no need of haste, and the occasional halts did the oxen and horses good. They could crop the grass at their leisure, and though capable of long continued strain, the cessation was none the less grateful to the patient, plodding animals.