The Bison or American Buffalo 31 



der, green blades, and had drunk their fill. 

 The footprints then came together again, 

 showing where the animals had gathered and 

 walked off in single file to the forest. Evi- 

 dently they had come to the pool in the early 

 morning, walking over the game pass from 

 some neighboring valley, and after drinking 

 and feeding had moved into the pine forest 

 to find some spot for their noontide rest. 



It was a very still day, and there were nearly 

 three hours of daylight left. Without a word 

 my silent companion, who had been scanning 

 the whole country with hawk-eyed eagerness, 

 besides scrutinizing the sign on his hands and 

 knees, took the trail, motioning me to follow. 

 In a moment we entered the woods, breathing 

 a sigh of relief as we did so ; for while in the 

 meadow we could never tell that the buffalo 

 might not see us, if they happened to be lying 

 in some place with a commanding lookout. 



The old hunter was thoroughly roused, and 

 he showed himself a very skilful tracker. We 

 were much favored by the character of the 

 forest, which was rather open, and in most 

 places free from undergrowth and down tim- 

 ber. As in most Rocky Mountain forests the 

 timber was small, not only as compared to the 

 giant trees of the groves of the Pacific Coast, 



