Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 176: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

164 Under the Waning Moon. At last they went stringing out over the rolling ground, keeping to the ridges for the best riding. Cuthbert saw they had bundles upon their pack animals; evidently the hunt had been at least fairly successful, and they were now returning, laden with the spoils of the chase. He counted them as they strung out—a good baker’s dozen in all, sturdy warriors, most of whom had already won renown in war or along the hunting trail. Every second took the dangerous lot farther away, and, unless some unforeseen accident betrayed his presence to them, the chances seemed bright for his escaping scot free. He had been fearful when wretched Buckskin, as if scenting the presence of his kind near by, had given vent to a shrill neigh, for one of the Indians stopped to look around. A second neigh would have given the whole thing away, but, fortunately, Buckskin had the decency to stop right there, and the warrior, as if doubting his hearing, cantered on to catch up with his fellows. Cuthbert recovered from his fright and began to breathe easy again. It had been a close shave, however, and one he would not care to repeat. Long he looked after the retreating figures of the . bronzed hunters, whose feathered headpieces nodded and glowed in the bright light of the early sun. In the exuberance of his delight, half raising him- self from the grass, he sent mocking kisses after them with his finger tips, at the same time mutter- ing, joyfully: ‘“Good-day to you, Mr. Crow Quill Moccasin, and you, also, Gray Wolf and Stick-in-His- Hand. A pleasant journey to your lodges, and give my re- gards to the dear old medicine man humbug, ditto poor, bereft Standing Elk, a second time childless, ConniclooOolkks.c©