CHAPTER XVI.

  A GREAT DISASTER.

  The hunters had better success on their second day's search forbuffalo; for they not only found the animals, but they killed three.The first game of the day was brought down by Younkins, who was the"guide, philosopher, and friend" of the party, and Oscar, the youngestof them all, slew the second. The honor of bringing down the third andlast was Uncle Aleck's. When he had killed his game, he was anxious toget home as soon as possible, somewhat to the amusement of the others,who rallied him on his selfishness. They hinted that he would not beso ready to go home, if he yet had his buffalo to kill, as had some ofthe others.

  "I'm worried about the crop, to tell the truth," said Mr. Howell. "Ifthat herd of buffalo swept down on our claim, there's precious littlecorn left there now; and it seemed to me that they went in thatdirection."

  "If that's the case," said the easy-going Younkins, "what's the use ofgoing home? If the corn is gone, you can't get it back by looking atthe place where it was."

  They laughed at this cool and practical way of looking at things, andUncle Aleck was half ashamed to admit he wanted to be rid of hispresent suspense, and could not be satisfied until he had settled inhis mind all that he dreaded and feared.

  It was a long and wearisome tramp homeward. But they had been moresuccessful than they had hoped or expected, and the way did notseem so long as it would if they had been empty-handed. The choicestparts of their game had been carefully cooled by hanging in the dryKansas wind, over night, and were now loaded upon the pack-animals.There was enough and more than enough for each of the three familiesrepresented in the party; and they had enjoyed many a savoryrepast of buffalo-meat cooked hunter-fashion before an open camp-fire,while their expedition lasted. So they hailed with pleasure thecrooked line of bluffs that marks the big bend of the RepublicanFork near which the Whittier cabin was built. Here and there theyhad crossed the trail, broad and well pounded, of the great herd thathad been stampeded on the first day of their hunt. But for the mostpart the track of the animal multitude bore off more to the south, andthe hunters soon forgot their apprehensions of danger to thecorn-fields left unfenced on their claim.

  It was sunset when the weary pilgrims reached the bluff thatoverlooked the Younkins cabin where the Dixon party temporarilydwelt. The red light of the sun deluged with splendor the waving grassof the prairie below them, and jack-rabbits scurrying hither and yonwere the only signs of life in the peaceful picture. Tired as he was,Oscar could not resist taking a shot at one of the flying creatures;but before he could raise his gun to his shoulder, the long-legged,long-eared rabbit was out of range. Running briskly for a littledistance, it squatted in the tall grass. Piqued at this, Oscarstealthily followed on the creature's trail. "It will make a nicechange from so much buffalo-meat," said the lad to himself, "and if Iget him into the corn-field, he can't hide so easily."

  He saw Jack's long ears waving against the sky on the next rise ofground, as he muttered this to himself, and he pressed forward,resolved on one parting shot. He mounted the roll of the prairie, andbefore him lay the corn-field. It was what had been a corn-field!Where had stood, on the morning of their departure, a glorious fieldof gold and green, the blades waving in the breeze like banners,was now a mass of ruin. The tumultuous drove had plunged down overthe ridge above the field, and had fled, in one broad swath ofdestruction, straight over every foot of the field, their trailleaving a brown and torn surface on the earth, wide on both sidesof the plantation. Scarcely a trace of greenness was left where oncethe corn-field had been. Here and there, ears of grain, broken andtrampled into the torn earth, hinted what had been; but for the mostpart hillock, stalk, corn-blade, vine, and melon were all crushedinto an indistinguishable confusion, muddy and wrecked.

  Oscar felt a shudder pass down his back, and his knees well-nigh gaveway under him as he caught a glimpse of the ruin that had beenwrought. Tears were in his eyes, and, unable to raise a shout, heturned and wildly waved his hands to the party, who had just thenreached the door of the cabin. His Uncle Aleck had been watching thelad, and as he saw him turn he exclaimed, "Oscar has found the buffalotrail over the corn-field!"

  The whole party moved quickly in the direction of the plantation. Whenthey reached the rise of ground overlooking the field, Oscar, stillunable to speak, turned and looked at his father with a face of grief.Uncle Aleck, gazing on the wreck and ruin, said only, "A wholesummer's work gone!"

  "A dearly bought buffalo-hunt!" remarked Younkins.

  "That's so, neighbor," added Mr. Bryant, with the grimmest sort of asmile; and then the men fell to talking calmly of the wonderful amountof mischief that a drove of buffalo could do in a few minutes, evenseconds, of time. Evidently, the animals had not stopped to snatch abite by the way. They had not tarried an instant in their wild course.Down the slope of the fields they had hurried in a mad rush, plungedinto the woody creek below, and, leaving the underbrush and vinesbroken and flattened as if a tornado had passed through the land, hadthundered away across the flat floor of the bottom-land on the furtherside of the creek. A broad brown track behind them showed that theyhad then fled into the dim distance of the lands of the Chapman'sCreek region.

  There was nothing to be done, and not much to be said. So, partingwith their kindly and sympathizing neighbors, the party wentsorrowfully home.

  "Well," said Uncle Aleck, as soon as they were alone together, "I amawful sorry that we have lost the corn; but I am not so sure that itis so very great a loss, after all."

  The boys looked at him with amazement, and Sandy said,--

  "Why, daddy, it's the loss of a whole summer; isn't it? What are wegoing to live on this whole winter that's coming, now that we have nocorn to sell?"

  "There's no market for free-State corn in these parts, Sandy," repliedhis father; and, seeing the look of inquiry on the lad's face, heexplained: "Mr. Fuller tells us that the officer at the post, thequartermaster at Fort Riley who buys for the Government, will buy nograin from free-State men. Several from the Smoky Hill and fromChapman's have been down there to find a market, and they all say thesame thing. The sutler at the post, Sandy's friend, told Mr. Fullerthat it was no use for any free-State man to come there with anythingto sell to the Government, at any price. And there is no other goodmarket nearer than the Missouri, you all know that,--one hundred andfifty miles away."

  "Well, I call that confoundedly mean!" cried Charlie, with fieryindignation. "Do you suppose, father, that they have from Washingtonany such instructions to discriminate against us?"

  "I cannot say as to that, Charlie," replied his father; "I only tellyou what the other settlers report; and it sounds reasonable. That iswhy the ruin of the corn-field is not so great a misfortune as itmight have been."