like glue. Now, I say, put him on the little brown pony, and take him with you."

"Follow the hunt!" cried Wilfred, overjoyed. "Oh, may I, Forgill?"

CHAPTER II.

HUNTING THE BUFFALO.

The cloudy morning ended in a brilliant noon. Wilfred was in ecstasies when he found himself mounted on the sagacious Brownie, who had followed them like a dog on the preceding evening.

Aunt Miriam had consented to Pête's proposal with a thankfulness which led the hunter, Hugh Bowkett, to remark, as Wilfred trotted beside him, "Come, you young scamp! so you are altogether beyond petticoat government, are you?"

"That is not true," retorted Wilfred, "for I was never out of her Majesty's dominion for a single hour in my life."

It was a chance hit, for Bowkett had been over the frontier more than once, wintering among the Yankee roughs on the other side of the border, a proceeding which is synonymous in the North-West Dominion with "getting out of the way."

Bowkett was a handsome fellow, and a first-rate shot, who could accomplish the difficult task of hunting the long-eared, cunning moose-deer as well as a born Red Indian. Wilfred looked up at him with secret admiration. Not so Forgill, who owned to Pête there was no dependence on these half-and-half characters. But without Bowkett's help there would be no meat for the winter; and since the master had decided the boy was to go with them, there was nothing more to be said.

Aunt Miriam came to the gate, in her hood and cloak, to see them depart.

"Good-bye! good-bye, auntie!" shouted Wilfred. "I am awfully sorry about those eggs."

"Ah, you rogue! do you think I am going to believe you?" She laughed, shaking a warning finger at him; and so they parted, little dreaming of all that would happen before they met again.

Wilfred was equipped in an old, smoked deer-skin coat of his uncle's, and a fur cap with a flap falling like a cape on his neck, and ear-pieces which met under his chin. He was a tall boy of his age, and his uncle was a little, wiry man. The coat was not very much too long for him. It wrapped over famously in front, and was belted round the waist. Pête had filled the pockets with a good supply of biscuit, and one or two potatoes, which he thought Wilfred could roast for his supper in the ashes of the campfire. For the hunting-party expected to camp out in the open for a night or two, as the buffaloes they were in quest of were further to seek and harder to find every season.

Forgill had stuck a hunting-knife in Wilfred's belt, to console him for the want of a gun. The boy would have liked to carry a gun like the others, but on that point there was a resolute "No" all round.

As they left the belt of pine trees, and struck out into the vast, trackless sea of grass, Wilfred looked back to the light blue column of smoke from the farm-house chimney, and wistfully watched it curling upwards in the clear atmosphere, with a dash of regret that he had not yet made friends with his uncle, or recovered his place in Aunt Miriam's good graces. But it scarcely took off the edge of his delight.

Forgill was in the cart, which he hoped to bring back loaded with game. At the corner of the first bluff, as the hills in Canada are usually called, they encountered Bowkett's man with a string of horses, one of which he rode. There was a joyous blaze of sunshine glinting through the broad fringes of white pines which marked the course of the river, making redder the red stems of the Norwegians which sprang up here and there in vivid contrast. A light canoe of tawny birch-bark, with its painted prow, was threading a narrow passage by the side of a tiny eyot or islet, where the pine boughs seemed to meet high overhead. The hunters exchanged a shout of recognition with its skilful rower, ere a stately heron, with grand crimson eye and leaden wings, came slowly flapping down the stream intent on fishing. Then the little party wound their way by ripple-worn rocks, covered with mosses and lichens. At last, on one of the few bare spots on a distant hillside, some dark moving specks became visible. The hunt began in earnest. Away went the horsemen over the wide, open plain. Wilfred and the cart following more slowly, yet near enough to watch the change to the stealthy approach and the cautious outlook over the hill-top, where the hunter's practised eye had detected the buffalo.

"Keep close by me," said Forgill to his young companion, as they wound their way upwards, and reached the brow of the hill just in time to watch the wild charge upon the herd, which scattered in desperate flight, until the hindmost turned to bay upon his reckless pursuers, his shaggy head thrown up as he stood for a moment at gaze. With a whoop and a cheer, in which Wilfred could not help joining, Bowkett again gave chase, followed by his man Diomé. A snap shot rattled through the air. Forgill drew the cart aside to the safer shelter of a wooded copse, out of the line of the hunters. He knew the infuriated buffalo would shortly turn on his pursuers. The loose horses were racing after their companions, and Brownie was quivering with excitement.

"Hold hard!" cried Forgill, who saw the boy was longing to give the pony its head and follow suit. "Quiet, my lad," he continued. "None of us are up to that sort of work. It takes your breath to look at them."

The buffalo was wheeling round. Huge and unwieldy as the beast appeared, it changed its front with the rapidity of lightning. Then Bowkett backed his horse and fled. On the proud beast thundered, with lowered eyes flashing furiously under its shaggy brows. A bullet from Diomé's gun struck him on the forehead. He only shook his haughty head and bellowed till the prairie rang; but his pace slackened as the answering cries of the retreating herd seemed to call him back. He was within a yard of Bowkett's horse, when round he swung as swiftly and suddenly as he had advanced. Wilfred stood up in his stirrups to watch him galloping after his companions, through a gap in a broken bluff at no great distance. Away went Bowkett and Diomé, urging on their horses with shout and spur.

"Halt a bit," said Forgill, restraining Wilfred and his pony, until they saw the two hunters slowly returning over the intervening ridge with panting horses. They greeted the approach of the cart with a hurrah of success, proposing, as they drew nearer, to halt for dinner in the shelter of the gap through which the buffalo had taken its way.

Wilfred was soon busy with Diomé gathering the dry branches last night's wind had broken to make a fire, whilst Bowkett and Forgill went forward with the cart to look for the fallen quarry.

It was the boy's first lesson in camping out, and he enjoyed it immensely, taking his turn at the frying-pan with such success that Diomé proposed to hand it over to his exclusive use for the rest of their expedition.

It was hard work to keep the impudent blue jays, with which the prairie abounded, from darting at the savoury fry, and pecking out the very middle of the steak, despite the near neighbourhood of smoke and flame, which threatened to singe their wings in the mad attempt.

But in spite of the thievish birds, dinner was eaten and