“They’ve made two towns on Cherry Creek; one’s Auraria, t’other’s called Denver now. They’ve had a meeting, too, and organized to send a delegate to Congress from the Territory of Jefferson; and the first Monday in June they held a convention to form the State of Jefferson. That was after I left, so I dunno what you will find when you get there. But you won’t find gold; at least not to amount to anything. And my advice is turn around now ’fore you starve to death.” With that, he clapped his heels against his mule, and continued. So did the Hee-Haw Express――but in the opposite direction. “I reckon,” said Captain Hi, “we’ll keep going. Little Billy said it.” That was a great disappointment――to have such a report. The man seemed to have spoken the truth, for from now on the returning goldseekers rapidly increased in numbers, and they all insisted that the Pike’s Peak country was a hoax, and the trail to it very bad. Indeed, many “pilgrims” were turning back without having reached the “diggin’s” at all. The Hee-Haw party were now well out in the midst of the Great Plains which stretched from the Missouri to the Rocky Mountains. Afar extended on either hand and before and behind, the rolling, sandy surface, covered with the short, woolly buffalo grass, and broken here and there by little hills and occasional willows and cottonwoods growing by the creeks. Jack-rabbits, as large as fox-terriers, and prairie-dogs and coyotes and gray wolves and antelope scampered from the trail, and the paths made by the buffalo frequently crossed and recrossed. These paths were worn deep, like bridle paths. Jim kept the camp in fresh meat from the antelope that he shot. He stalked them very cleverly, as Dave thought, by lying out in the brush, and waving his handkerchief from the end of his wiping stick. The flag seemed to fascinate the curious-minded antelope, who edged nearer and nearer to him, circling around and around and peering and stamping, until he shot what he wished, at his leisure. The meat was tender and sweet, but according to Billy and the others, it was nothing compared with buffalo meat. Buffalo meat gave more strength, and Billy claimed that anybody could eat it for weeks at a time and not tire of it. So they all wanted buffalo――and especially Left-over. He was clamorous to shoot a buffalo, and began to whine about it continually. “Lookee here, Left-over,” finally spoke Jim. “If we let you shoot a buffalo will you quit this etarnel gab about that and pie?” “I will. Truly I will, Jim,” promised Left-over. “All right, then. As soon as we sight buffalo, where we can get at ’em, you can shoot one, and after that shut up till we get to Denver.” “With your gun, Jim?” “Yes, with my gun.” Only a few buffalo had been seen thus far. The “pilgrim” travel on the trail had split their herds and had made them wary. But on the very next day it was that Billy, driving the laboring mules, from the wagon seat whooped exultantly: