The Boy Hunters | Page 5

the explosions
sounded softer and more hollow.
"A steamboat!" cried Francois, whose ear first caught the sounds.
"Yes," muttered Basil, "from New Orleans, I expect, and bound to
Saint Louis."
"No, brother," said Lucien, quietly raising himself from his book. "She
is an Ohio boat."

"How can you tell that, Luce?" inquired Francois.
"From the sound of her 'scape, of course. I can distinguish the boat. She
is the `Buck-eye'--mail-boat for Cincinnati."
In a short time the white cloud of steam was seen ascending over the
trees; and then the huge vessel came "bulging" around a bend of the
river, cleaving the brown current as she went. She was soon opposite
the lawn; and, sure enough, proved to be what Lucien had said she
was-- the mail-steamer "Buck-eye." This was a triumph for Lucien,
although he bore it with characteristic modesty.
The boat had not passed many minutes, when the loud screeching of
her steam was heard in the direction of Point Coupee. They could tell
from this that she was putting in at the landing.
"Hugot!" cried the Colonel, "their may be something for us. Go and
see."
Without waiting for further orders, Hugot started on his errand. He was
a brisk walker, Hugot; and was back again in a trice. He brought with
him a letter of goodly size and appearance.
"From Prince Lucien!" cried Francois, who was sure to have the first
word in everything. "It is from the Prince, papa; I know the seal."
"Quiet, Francois! quiet!" said his father, reprovingly; at the same time
hobbling into the verandah, and calling for his spectacles.
The letter was soon opened, and perused.
"Hugot!" cried the Colonel, after he had finished reading it.
Hugot made no reply, but threw himself in front of his master, with his
hand raised to his eyebrows a la militaire.
"Hugot, you must go to Saint Louis."
"Bien, mon Colonel!"

"You must start by the first boat."
"Tres-bien, mon Colonel!"
"You must procure for me the skin of a white buffalo."
"That will not be difficult, monsieur."
"More difficult than you imagine, I fear."
"With money, monsieur?"
"Ay, even with money, Hugot. Look you! It is a skin I want--not a
robe--but a perfect skin with the head, feet, and all complete, and fit for
stuffing."
"Ah! mon Colonel! that is different."
"Ah! you may say so. I fear it will be difficult, indeed," soliloquised the
Colonel, with a thoughtful air. "I very much doubt whether we can get
it at all; but it must be had, cost what it may--ay, cost what it may."
"I will do my best, Colonel."
"Try at every fur-store in Saint Louis,--inquire among the hunters and
trappers--you know where to find them. If these fail you, put an
advertisement in the newspapers--advertise both in English and French.
Go to Monsieur Choteau--anywhere. Spare no expense, but get me the
skin."
"Restez tranquille, mon Colonel; I shall do all that."
"Make ready, then, to start. There may be a steamer going up before
night. Hush! I hear one this very moment. It may be a Saint Louis
boat."
All stood for a moment silent and listening. The 'scape of another boat
coming up the river could be heard plain enough.

"It is a Saint Louis boat," said Lucien. "It is the `Belle of the West.'"
Lucien, who had a quick talent in that way, could tell, by the sound of
their steam-pipe, almost every boat that plied upon the Mississippi. In
half-an-hour the steamer hove in sight, and it was seen that he had
again guessed correctly. It was a Saint Louis boat, and the "Belle of the
West," too!
Hugot had not many preparations to make; and before the boat had
arrived opposite to the house, he had arranged everything--received
some further instructions, with a purse of money, from his master--and
was off to Point Coupee, to meet the steamer at the landing.
CHAPTER FOUR.
GOING ON A GREAT HUNT.
It was full three weeks before Hugot returned. They were a long three
weeks to the old Colonel,--who was troubled with apprehensions that
Hugot would not succeed in his errand. He had written in reply to the
letter of Prince Bonaparte. He had written promising to procure--if
possible--a white buffalo-skin--for this was what the Prince's letter was
about;--and not for half what he was worth would the Colonel have
failed to accomplish this object. No wonder, then, he was impatient and
uneasy during Hugot's absence.
Hugot returned at length, after night. The Colonel did not wait until he
entered the house, but met him at the door, candle in hand. He need not
have put any question, as Hugot's face answered that question before it
was asked. The moment the light fell upon it, any one could have told
that Hugot