BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE 



was the property of Wild Bill. The dog seemed 

 to be very intelligent and his owner prized him 

 highly. 



After establishing our camp our commander, old 

 Tom, gave his orders, as occasion suggested, and 

 Jack and I promptly executed them. 



"One of us must always be in camp," said the 

 old man, "for we don't know what prowler might 

 come along an* steal somethin' if we ain't here 

 to watch things. Now, for to-day, I'll be camp 

 guard while you youngsters do the foraging. 

 First thing, Jack, you an' Peck light out an' hunt 

 up some wood to cook with." 



As the camp-stove would be so much handier 

 and more economical of fuel than an open fire, we 

 had taken it out of the wagon and placed it on the 

 ground, with the mess-chest near by just behind 

 the wagon and, after pitching the tent, moved 

 the stove inside. 



Jack and I skirmished along the creek, and each 

 gathered an armful of wood which we broke up 

 into stove lengths, while Tom busied himself 

 overhauling the mess-chest and cooking utensils. 



When we had finished our job Tom gave another 

 order: 



"Now, while you're restin' Jack, you take the 

 two mules, an', Peck, you take the two broncos, 

 an' go back up the street to that blacksmith shop 

 just this side of the Mansion House an' git 'em 

 shod all 'round. That'll take about all forenoon. 



27 



