prairie now--"

"One blind hoss might see dat!" interrupted Henri.

"An' we may or may not diskiver buffalo. An' water's scarce, too, so
we'll need to look out for it pretty sharp, I guess, else we'll lose
our horses, in which case we may as well give out at once. Besides,
there's rattlesnakes about in sandy places, we'll ha' to look out for
them; an' there's badger holes, we'll need to look sharp for them lest
the horses put their feet in 'em; an' there's Injuns, who'll look out
pretty sharp for _us_ if they once get wind that we're in them parts."

"Oui, yis, mes boys; and there's rain, and tunder, and lightin',"
added Henri, pointing to a dark cloud which was seen rising on the
horizon ahead of them.

"It'll be rain," remarked Joe; "but there's no thunder in the air jist
now. We'll make for yonder clump o' bushes and lay by till it's past."

Turning a little to the right of the course they had been following,
the hunters galloped along one of the hollows between the prairie
waves before mentioned, in the direction of a clump of willows. Before
reaching it, however, they passed over a bleak and barren plain where
there was neither flower nor bird. Here they were suddenly arrested by
a most extraordinary sight--at least it was so to Dick Varley, who
had never seen the like before. This was a colony of what Joe called
"prairie-dogs." On first beholding them Crusoe uttered a sort of half
growl, half bark of surprise, cocked his tail and ears, and instantly
prepared to charge; but he glanced up at his master first for
permission. Observing that his finger and his look commanded