Paul noticed that the country soon became much less hilly, and that the forest thinned.  After a while hills and forest ceased altogether and the two stood upon the edge of a wide sweep of gently rolling, open country, extending so far that it met the horizon.

“Look,” said Henry.  “A great prairie!”

“And look what’s on it!” exclaimed Paul.

Henry laughed and glanced at his comrade’s pleased face.  As far as the eye could reach the prairie was covered with a multitude of great, dark animals, grazing on the short, sweet grass.  Near by these animals, as Paul saw, were a few feet apart, but further on they seemed to blend into one solid, black, but heaving mass.

“A real buffalo herd,” said Henry.

Paul had seen buffaloes often in Kentucky, but there they were usually in small groups of a dozen or so, owing to the wooded nature of the country, and now he looked for the first time upon a great herd, twenty thousand, thirty thousand, maybe more—­one could not calculate.  The spectacle appealed greatly to his imaginative temperament.

“What a grand sight!” he said.

“Yes,” said Henry, “it is wonderful, but, Paul, this is nothing to what you can see on the great plains.  When I was a captive with the northwestern Indians I’ve seen a herd that was passing our party all day, and it was also so wide you could not see across it.”

They stood there some time looking.  The huge, savage bulls were on the outskirts of the herd, and just beyond them at the fringe of the forest were snarling timber wolves, waiting for a chance to drag down some careless calf, or a bull weakened to the last degree by old age.

As the two youths looked they heard a shot and saw a movement among the buffaloes.  Another shot followed and then a half dozen.  The portion of the herd near by seemed suddenly to contract and to roll in upon itself.  The waiting wolves disappeared in the woods, and snorts of terror arose from the herd.

“There they are!  I see them!” exclaimed Paul.  “It is the Spaniards, sure enough!”

Five or six men in the Spanish military attire burst from the forest, not more than a hundred yards away, and continued to fire as fast as they could into the herd.

“How foolish!” exclaimed Henry.  “Either they are wasting their shots or if they don’t waste them they are killing far more buffaloes than they can use!”

The boys withdrew into a thicket, as they did not wish to be seen by the Spaniards, and watched closely.  The soldiers continued to reload and fire and uttered shouts of joy whenever a buffalo fell.  Transported by excitement they scattered, and one man ran down near Paul and Henry, detaching himself unconsciously from the rest of his comrades.

This Spaniard was young and athletic, and he fired at a huge bull.  Had he been an experienced hunter, he would have known better, as the bull was too big and tough to eat, and he was also one of the savage guardians of the herd.  Moreover, the Spaniards were armed mostly with muskets, a weapon far inferior to the Kentucky rifle.