Some of the remaining animals raised their heads, and looked in mild surprise; then went on cropping the grass again, as though their alarm had been short-lived. The two boys dropped back to the side of Pat, who had possibly also been watching this strange panorama, to be seen nowhere else on the broad earth. Bob looked at Sandy, and the other returned his amazed gaze with interest. "Did you see him do that job, and ain't he able to use that short bow better'n any Indian you ever met?" whispered Sandy. "That's why so many of the buffalo look like they're sleeping," Bob went on to say. "That Indian hunter has been killing them off. I guess he's shot six or seven by now." "But what will he do with all that meat; just eat the tongues?" Sandy asked. Bob turned to Pat, a question in his eye, and the trapper, holding up that warning finger to make sure that they kept their voices toned down, so that they could not be heard above the rustle of the long grass in the breeze, answered him. "Jerk it for winter use; d'ye mind?" was all he said, but the boys understood. They had been in an Indian village, and seen how the surplus venison or buffalo meat was dried in strips. This jerked meat was stored away for the time when game might be scarce, or the red hunters felt indisposed to leave their comfortable wigwams to look for it. And, whenever a runner was sent on a long journey, this tough meat formed his sole stay while on the way. It required no cooking, and a piece put in the mouth could be masticated by degrees, serving the useful purpose of keeping the jaws working, and at the same time affording sustenance to the body. "But this upsets all our plans," complained Sandy, who did not see how they were to make any attempt at getting a buffalo, when possibly a dozen red hunters were close by, waiting until their comrade with the short bow and the killing arrows had completed his bloody butcher business. "Oh! I doan't know," remarked Pat, rubbing his chin with his hand, as though considering some idea that had crept into his active mind. Of course both lads turned eagerly on their companion. They seemed to view his few words, and his manner, as suggesting hope. "You've thought of something, Pat; please tell us what it is, for I do hope we can find a way to get our share of all this meat," Sandy asked, anxiously.