"The cloud of dust is growing fast, just as you told us, Will," he said, "and, while it did look for a moment or two like Indian horsemen, it isn't. It's a buffalo herd, and the tail of it runs off into the southeast, clean down under the horizon. Buffaloes move in two kinds of herds, the giant herds, and the little ones. This is a giant, and no mistake. In a few minutes you'll be able to see 'em, plain, with your own eyes." "I kin see thar dust cloud now," exclaimed the Little Giant. "Looks ez ef they wuz cuttin' 'cross our right o' way." They rode forward at ease and gradually a mighty cloud of dust, many miles in length and of great width, emerged from the plain, moving steadily toward the northwest. Will, with his glasses, now saw the myriads of black forms that trampled up the dusty typhoons, and was even able to discern the fierce wolves hanging on the flanks in the hope of pulling down a calf or a decrepit old bull. "They must number millions," he said. "Like ez not they do," said the Little Giant. "You kin tell tales 'bout the big herds o' bufflers on the plains that nobody will b'lieve, but they're true jest the same. Once at the Platte I saw a herd crossin' fur five days, an' it stretched up an' down the river ez fur ez the eye could see." "How do they all live? Where do they find enough grass to eat?" asked Will. "I dunno, but bunch grass is pow'ful fillin' an' fattenin', an' when a country runs fifteen or eighteen hundred miles each way, thar's a lot o' grass in it. The Sioux, the Cheyennes, the Pawnees an' all the plains Indians live on the buffler." "And in my opinion," said Brady, "the buffalo must have been increasing until the white man came with firearms. Their increase was greater than the toll taken by Indians with bows and arrows and by the wolves. No wonder the Indians fight so hard to retain the plains and the buffalo. With an unlimited meat supply on the hoof, and with limited needs, they undoubtedly lived a happy, nomadic life. If your health is good and your wants are few it's not hard to be happy. The Biblical people were nomadic for a long time, and some of the world's greatest men and women moved with herds and lived in tents. My mind often reverts to those old days and the simplicity of life." "I've allers thought thar wuz somethin' o' the old Bible 'bout you, Steve," said the Little Giant. "You ain't no prophet. Nobody is nowadays, but you talk like them fightin' an' prayin' old fellers, an' you wander 'roun' the West jest ez they wandered 'bout the land o' Canaan, but shore that you will git to your journey's end at last. An' I know, too, Steve, that when you come to a fight you're jest ez fierce an' terrible ez old Joshua hisself ever wuz, an' ef I ain't mistook it wuz him that wuz called the sword o' the Lord. Ain't I right, young William?" "I'm not sure," replied the lad, "but if you'll read the Book of Joshua you'll find his sword was a great and terrible weapon indeed."