He also saw to it that all the men were well mounted, with spare horses, and that they carried an ample supply of ammunition and dried meat for food. This last detail surprised his great friend and comrade, Nick Wharton, who formed one of the party, as did also Wild Bill, the famous scout who at that time was only second to Buffalo Bill himself in reputation as a hunter and Indian fighter. “What are ye thinkin’ about, Buffler?” growled old Nick. “I never seed sich a gol-durned lot of meat stocked up by a huntin’ party in all my born days. We might be goin’ ter hit the trail right across the plains ter Californy. Don’t ye think we know enough by this time ter be able ter shoot fur our grub?” “Everybody knows that you can, Nick--if there’s any game around,” Buffalo Bill replied to this protest, smiling enigmatically. “But you never can tell whether we’ll find any. We may not see hoof or hide of a buffalo for several days. Besides--other things may happen.” Nick Wharton, unconvinced, went off, growling, to attend to the saddling of his horse. Buffalo Bill did not wish to take even his two best friends, old Nick and Wild Bill, into his confidence concerning the delicate task with which he had been intrusted. If he came up with the wagon train--regarding which he had very little doubt, as he knew the course it must take, and it would necessarily have a broad, clear trail--he hoped to be able to persuade Mr. Doyle to return, without having recourse to actual violence. That being the case, it would be unwise to tell anybody of the lengths to which he felt authorized to go in case of necessity. He allowed all the men, even Jack Mainwaring, to think that there was nothing more in the expedition than a simple hunting trip. On the day after leaving the fort Buffalo Bill found the trail of the wagon train. Much to the surprise of his party he had headed on a course which would take them clear away from the region in which buffaloes had been last reported by the Pawnee friendlies. They thought he was losing his skill as a hunter, but his discipline over them was so good that they made no open protest, though they growled among themselves. They could not know that Buffalo Bill was not looking after game, but after the Doyle party. “We’ll follow this trail, boys,” said Buffalo Bill, pointing to the broad tracks left by the wagons. “It’s pretty fresh, and perhaps the folks will be able to tell us where the buffaloes are ranging. Anyway, we can pass the time of day with them.” “Is Buffer goin’ suddenly crazy?” asked Nick Wharton, in a hoarse aside, of Wild Bill. “What in the name of the everlastin’ hickory do we want ter pass the time o’ day with people fur? I thought we cum out from the fort ter hunt meat. “It seems we didn’t. We cum out fur a nice sociable ride, payin’ polite calls on wagon parties! It beats all in my knowledge o’ Bill. As if a wagon train wouldn’t scare away all the bufflers within ten miles of it!”