“Well, I spied out the whole valley from where I stood. There’s a band of antelope further down, too. But we don’t care for them.” “Not while the buffaloes are in sight,” chuckled Chet. “Now, listen! Across the valley I saw the openings of two or three narrow gulches—regular pockets in the hill over there.” “Hey!” cried Chet, sitting up both physically and mentally. “What is this, boy?” “My idea,” said Dig, with confidence, “and it’s a good one. Those pockets can be made into corrals at least, one of them can.” “You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Chet. “You think we can corral those buffaloes?” “Maybe the big one. Sell him to some speculator or a showman,” said Dig. “Say! that would beat all the hoptoads that ever hopped out of Ireland,” declared Chet. “Let’s have those glasses.” “Wait till you have your breakfast.” “Breakfast be jiggered!” ejaculated Chet. “I want to see what those pockets look like from out yonder. To corral some of those buffaloes! Well! that would beat shooting them, I should think,” and he hurried away from the campfire. CHAPTER XXVIII—GREAT LUCK The sweep of the hill-bound vale was visible for ten miles from the hillside where the boys were encamped. They were almost at the head of the valley. The buffaloes grazed five miles below. The slope of ground bounding the valley on the north and east was too steep to tempt the buffaloes to mount and graze upon it. Of course, once frightened and with better escape shut off, the herd would not refuse to come over this hill. Buffaloes are almost as sure-footed as deer. The other side of the valley—the south side—was bounded by steep terraces which would have been hard for a man to climb in many places. These steep walls were broken here and there by gashes cut in the hillside by nature in ancient times. As far as Chet could see, these gulches were not barren. Grass and brush grew plentifully as far up the cuts as he could see, and here and there a tall tree stood, topping the walls of the pocket. Digby Fordham’s suggestion regarding the capture of some of the buffaloes was well worth attempting. At least, so it seemed to Chet’s enthusiastic mind. He was just as eager to try to drive the buffalo herd as was his chum. He went back to breakfast briskly. Dig had everything all prepared. “What do you think of it?” he asked doubtfully. “We’ll try it. But we have to fool those two fellows down below there, as well as the buffaloes.” “Why so?” asked Dig curiously. Chet told him in a low voice while they ate just what he had heard at the other camp the evening before. He believed that Steve was watching for a chance to get away from them; but that, because of Tony’s insistence, the two villains would wait until they obtained some meat. “Tony isn’t one to starve uncomplainingly in any cause,” Chet said decidedly. “And Steve doesn’t want to lose him—” “Why not? He’s not much good to him, seems to me,” said Dig.