CHAPTER IV 



A STRANGE RIDE 



THE two years that had passed, during 

 which time Little Bighead had grown from 

 a fuzzy yellow buffalo calf into a sturdy 

 young bull of eight or nine hundred 

 weight, had seen wonders wrought upon the 

 land which the Andersons called their 

 homestead. Like all frontier people they 

 had come West for business. Success was 

 not to be had merely for the taking. It 

 had to be wrung from the earth here as 

 anywhere else. 



But here the natural conditions were of 

 the best. All that nature could do for the 

 fertile acres of their meadows she had done. 

 For hundreds of years the silt from the river 

 had been piling up on these meadows, un- 

 til now the plough turned up a rich black 



