The game scout and his valiant dog led
on the force of canines with deafening war-cries,
and one could see black heads here and there pop-
ping from behind the embankments. As the
herd finally swept toward the opposite shore,
many dead were left behind. Pierced by the ar-
rows of the hunters, they lay like black mounds
upon the glassy plain.
It was a great hunt! "Once more the camp
will be fed," they thought, "and this good for-
tune will help us to reach the spring alive!"
A chant of rejoicing rang out from the op-
posite shore, while the game scout unsheathed
his big knife and began the work which is ever
the sequel of the hunt--to dress the game; al-
though the survivors of the slaughter had
scarcely disappeared behind the hills. The dogs
had all run back to their respective masters, and
this left the scout and his companion Shunka
alone. Some were appointed to start a camp
in a neighboring gulch among the trees, so that
the hunters might bring their meat there and eat
before setting out for the great camp on the Big
River.
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