Still it was evident that the Shawanoe was interested. Finally he handed the glass to George, who was in the saddle on the back of Jack. “Let my brother tell me what he sees,” he quietly remarked. The boy leveled the instrument and a moment later exclaimed: “Horses! There are ten hundred thousand of them!” “Deerfoot fears his brother has not counted right,” remarked the Shawanoe. “I may be two or three out of the way,” replied the lad, “but I never before saw so many.” He passed the glass to the impatient Victor, who took his turn at scanning the remarkable scene. Mul-tal-la sat as immobile as a statue on his horse, calmly waiting for the others to complete their scrutiny. His eyes were turned to the south, and the slight wrinkling of his cheeks showed that he was looking hard, though there was no other evidence of concern. Victor added his expressions of astonishment to those of his brother, and handed the instrument to the Blackfoot, who, of course, had learned its use long before. Thus the round of observation was finished. That George had been extravagant in his estimate became clear when it was agreed that the drove of wild horses numbered perhaps two or three hundred. They were coming at an easy canter in a direct line for the camp, so that in a short time all were in plain sight of the unaided eye. No doubt they had wandered northward from the plains of Upper Texas—as it is now called—tempted by the fine pasturage, and possibly by that longing for change which sometimes shows itself in a quadruped to a hardly less degree than in a biped. The picturesque scene did not make our friends lose sight of their own situation as regarded these wild animals. If they chose they could overrun the camp and trample all to death as the stampeded bison threatened to do but a short time before. Would they do so? Mul-tal-la, whose previous experience gave him greater knowledge, did not think he and his companions were in special danger. Wild horses were not disposed to attack travelers, though there was a possibility of their doing so if provoked or if strangers got in their path or annoyed them. He warned his friends to watch against their own horses dashing out and joining the drove, though even if they did so they were liable to harm by the others, who were likely to resent such an intrusion. The domestic horses were only a few minutes behind their owners in discovering the strangers’ approach. They showed considerable excitement, throwing up their heads, snuffing the air and staring affrightedly to the south. Only one, however, betrayed a disposition to make closer acquaintance with his wild brethren. It was Zigzag, who broke into a sudden awkward gallop, heading directly for them.