"
"What say you, Jerry, shall we try it?" inquired I.
"I reckon so. We've got plenty of time before night, and I 'spect I may
as well go and show you how ter hunt 'em; 'cause yer won't git none
unless I go 'long with yer, that's sartin."
"Well, we'll see what we get if you do go along," responded Hal; "so come
on."
Mounting our horses, Jerry, Hal, Ned, and myself set out in pursuit of
antelope, whose tracks could be seen in all directions about us.
We had ridden two or three miles without starting game of any kind, when
Jerry, who was a short distance in advance of us, suddenly dismounted,
and began studying the ground attentively.
"Hilloa!" exclaimed Ned, "Jerry's struck something."
As we rode up to him, he said,--
"Wal, boys, here's game, sartin sure."
"What is it, Jerry?" inquired Hal.
"What is it? Why, a fresh Comanche trail; and 'tain't no war party,
neither, for they've got their lodges with 'em."
"How do you know that?" inquired Ned."
"How do you know you're settin' on that horse?" asked Jerry. "Why, I know
one just ez well ez you know t'other. Can't you see whar the ends of the
poles dragged in the dirt behind 'em. Anybody could see that, I should
think.
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