Half the pleasure of hunting, if sportsmen would but confess it, consists in showing one's trophies to others. It was not at all surprising, therefore, that the send-off found two-thirds of our force in the field. The day was warm, and, though the hunters ran far and fast, the bison went still further and faster, and escaped. He led us, however, to greater spoil than his own tough carcass; for underneath the sod which his hoofs spurned, lay a treasure which glittered as temptingly to geological eyes as gold to the miner, when first struck by his prospecting pick. The Professor trotted out of town with becoming dignity, following the hunters merely to avail himself of their protection, while examining the ridges around. A mile out, the heat and his rough-paced nag proved too much for him, and he threw himself upon the ground for a rest. Lying there, watching idly the little insects wandering about, his attention was attracted to a colony of burrowing ants, who, with a hole in the earth half an inch in diameter, were continually coming up, rolling before them small grains of sand and pebbles, the latter obtained far below, and a small mound of them already showing the extent of their patient labors. The Professor began to mark more closely the tiny builders, imagining that he could distinguish one of the citizens going down, and recognize him again as he came up again with his burden from below. Occasionally, it seemed to the observant savan, something blue was brought out, which glittered more than sand. Looking closer, he discovered that the shining particles were beads of some bright substance, and resembling exactly those worn by the Indians of to-day. It thrilled him, as if he had been brought face to face with the far-off ages, when the world was young. Beneath, evidently, lay the dead of some forgotten tribe, and horse and man were resting upon a place of sepulcher. There was no mound to mark the spot, and if any ever existed, the seasons of ages had obliterated it. The savage races which now roam the plains never bury their dead, but lay the bodies on scaffolds, or hang them in trees. And so these little ants, robbing the graves far beneath us, were bringing to our gaze, on a bright summer day in the Nineteenth Century, the mysteries of ages already hoary with antiquity when Columbus first saw our shores.