“You can’t wonder at it after the experience he has had with people from the States. He once shot four buffaloes for a gentleman living in New York, who cut off the tails of the game, took them home, and hung them up in his library as trophies of his own prowess.” “I don’t see how he could do that,” said Oscar almost indignantly. “I will gladly pay Thompson for any specimens I cannot procure myself, but I couldn’t have the face to pass them off as my own. He hasn’t a very high opinion of my courage, either. He thinks I shall be willing to come back to the fort before spring.” “That’s another thing you can’t wonder at. He knows what is before you, and you don’t. Now you have two days to spend in any manner most agreeable to yourself—this is Thursday, and you are not to start until Monday, you know—and, if you are not too weary with travel, I think I can put it in your power to obtain two or three fine specimens before you start for the hills. Do you ride?” “Yes, sir. I have broken more than one colt to the saddle.” “Then that is something you will not have to learn over again. Could you stand a fifteen-mile canter to-night?” “I should enjoy it,” replied Oscar with great eagerness. “All right. We’ll make up a little party among the officers, and spend the greatest part of to-morrow in coursing antelope. That is a sport you know nothing about, of course, and I tell you beforehand that your horsemanship, and skill with the revolver and lasso, will be pretty thoroughly tested.” “Lasso?” repeated Oscar. “I didn’t know that antelope were ever hunted with the lasso.” “Certainly they are; and it is the most exciting way of capturing them. You can’t imagine what hard riding it takes to enable one to slip a lariat over the head of a youngster about six months old. The little fellows run like the wind, and have a way of dodging and ducking their heads, just as the noose is about to settle down over their necks, that is perfectly exasperating. On Saturday we will pay our respects to the wolves. They are not worth a charge of powder, but we manage to get a little sport out of them by shooting them with the bow and arrow.” “Then I shall not get any,” said Oscar. “I don’t know how to use a bow.” “You can’t learn younger. The first thing, however, is to go down to the corral and pick out a pony. The quartermaster knows all about them, and we will ask him to go with us and make the selection. Orderly, tell Major Baker I want to see him.” The major, who was the acting quartermaster, made his appearance in a few minutes, and the three walked leisurely toward the gate, discussing the merits of the captured ponies as they went. At a sign from the colonel, accompanied by a pantomime that Oscar could not understand, a man who was sitting on the opposite side of the parade ground, with a blanket over his shoulders, arose to his feet and disappeared through an open doorway.