CHAPTER XI.
_Evening meditations and morning reflections--Buffaloes, badgers, antelopes, and accidents--An old bull and the wolves--"Mad tails"-- Henri floored, etc._ There is nothing that prepares one so well for the enjoyment of rest, both mental and physical, as a long-protracted period of excitement and anxiety, followed up by bodily fatigue.

Excitement alone banishes rest; but, united with severe physical exertion, it prepares for it.
At least, courteous reader, this is our experience; and certainly this was the experience of our three hunters as they lay on their backs beneath the branches of a willow bush and gazed serenely up at the twinkling stars two days after their escape from the Indian village.
They spoke little; they were too tired for that, also they were too comfortable.

Their respective suppers of fresh antelope steak, shot that day, had just been disposed of.

Their feet were directed towards the small fire on which the said steaks had been cooked, and which still threw a warm, ruddy glow over the encampment.

Their blankets were wrapped comfortably round them, and tucked in as only hunters and mothers know _how_ to tuck them in.