The herd at first ran as swiftly as they could in an easterly direction, then they began to slacken their pace, and a few, having recovered their courage, commenced to nibble gingerly at the short buffalo grass again. At this juncture White Wolf tied a white rag around his head, and, standing on his knees, began to sway his body backward and forward with a steady oscillating motion. Presently the antelope saw him, and a few of them stopped short to gaze at the strange object. In a few moments four or five of the inquisitive creatures moved slowly forward again, still attracted by the swaying white figure of the savage, which so excited their curiosity. Presently, as they came closer and closer, Joe told White Wolf not to fire until they came within range of his little gun. Soon the proper distance was attained, and Joe, drawing up his piece, said:-- "Now, White Wolf, fire away!" Their pieces were discharged simultaneously; it seemed like a single shot, so accurately had the triggers been pulled together. Two of the graceful creatures rolled over on their sides, one White Wolf's, instantly killed, while Joe's was sprawling out, every limb quivering like an aspen leaf. Both hunters dropped their guns and started out to cut the throats of their game, Joe was in the act of placing his hand on the neck of the one he had fired at, when, to his surprise, it jumped to its feet and ran off to join its not faraway companions, and the astonished boy never saw it again! Which was the more surprised, the boy or the antelope, it would be difficult to determine. He turned to the savage, who was bewildered, too, and asked him what in the world was the cause of the animal's recovery after he had shot him. "I aimed at his heart as he stood broadside toward me," said Joe, "and I don't know what it means." "You only grazed him," answered White Wolf. "We Indians often catch wild horses in that way, when we can't get them in any other." Of course, they conversed in the Pawnee tongue, for the savage did not understand a word of English. "Oh! I know what you mean, White Wolf," said Joe. "I just grazed his spinal cord with the ball; it paralyzed him for a moment, that's all. Yellow Calf told me how the Pawnees used to catch wild horses in that way, down on the Cimarron bottom, when the tribe lived on the Republican River." "I'm soon going down there with some of my warriors. A Kaw brave told me the other day that there are a good many wild horses there yet; will you go, too?" asked White Wolf of his young friend. "I'll go if my father and mother are willing, and I guess they will be," replied Joe. "I should so like to see a herd of wild horses. I have seen nearly all the other animals that live on the plains and in the timber, but have never seen wild horses, because they don't range as far east as Oxhide Creek. There are lots of them in Nebraska though, farther north, Mr. Tucker says."