It was in the early twilight of the second day, the western sky already purple with the last fading colors, the prairie before us showing in patches of green and brown.

To our left was a thick wood, even then grown gloomy and dark in shadows, and slightly in advance of us Kennedy rode alone, hopeful of thus dislodging some wild animal.

I could see the gleam of the pistol in his hand, held in instant readiness, cocked and primed.

Suddenly he drew rein, and then, turning his horse's head sharply, advanced cautiously toward the miniature forest, leaning forward to gaze intently at something unseen from where we were.

I halted the others in a thrill of expectancy, anticipating the report of his weapon, and hopeful of a successful shot.