"No use," he muttered. "He is gone an' thet is all there is to it. I've got to face the music and tell the others, though it's worse nor pullin' teeth to do it." Getting out of the gully in the almost total darkness was now truly difficult, and had not Barringford been skilled in woodcraft he would certainly have been lost. But he had taken note of the way he had come and remembered every bush, tree, and rock, and now he returned by the same route. It was a tough climb back to the forest where the trail of the buffalo had been last seen and here he had to rest once more, before starting for the camp. CHAPTER X A WAIT IN CAMP Let us go back to the time when the buffalo, in his mad eagerness to get away from the hunters, plunged headlong into the shelter of the whites and hurled it flat. Under the canvas lay Dave, with the breath knocked completely out of him. He felt something heavy come down on his back and then for the moment knew no more. When he opened his eyes he found that his father had hauled him from under the wreckage and was gazing earnestly into his face. "Are you hurt, son?" demanded James Morris quickly. "I--I--reckon not," was the slow answer. "But something hit me in the--the back. Whe--where is the buffalo?" "Gone, and Barringford and Henry after him." "Hope they lay him low." "So do I. But are you quite sure you are not injured? I thought the animal stepped on you." "Maybe he did, father. But I'm all right, thank goodness." And Dave stretched himself to prove his words. The Indians had gathered around and were talking excitedly. Some wanted to join in the hunt, but the frontiersmen under Barringford held them back. "You let Sam an' Henry go it alone," said Sanderson. "They know wot they are a-doin'." "That is true," answered White Buffalo. "My white brothers can shoot well--I have seen it." Soon the knocked-down tent was raised again, and the fire stirred up. Then, as the storm, increased, all crouched in the shelters they had erected and awaited the return of Henry and the old frontiersman. "I'd like to eat a buffalo steak now first-rate," said Dave, smacking his lips. "It would touch the spot and chase away the blues." "Buffalo steak is rather strong, like elk's meat," answered his father. "But we need strong food, on such a rough journey as this." "It's a pity there isn't a better trail, father." "Some day there will be a regular road, Dave--when there are more settlements to the westward. I look for the time when we shall have cities out here, the same as along the seaboard." "Won't never see that," said the frontiersman named Lukins. "Why not?" risked James Morris. "The Injuns won't allow it, that's why, Mr. Morris. They don't mind a tradin'-post or two, whar they kin sell hides an' git rum an' sech things. But they don't want no towns or cities. You won't never see a city on the Ohio, nor in them Western countries at all."