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appearances； equally speechless and astonished。 It was true that he
remained rooted to the saddle； a lank； still heroic figure； alternately
grasping his hatchet and gun with a kind of spasmodic regularity。 How
long he would have continued this would never be known； for the next
moment； with a deafening crash； the herd broke through the brush； and；
swerving at the right of the lagoon； bore down directly upon them。 All
further doubt or hesitation on their part was stopped。 The farseeing；
sagacious Mexican plug with a terrific snort wheeled and fled furiously
with his rider。 Moved； no doubt； by touching fidelity； Clarence's humbler
team…horse instantly followed。 In a few moments those devoted animals
struggled neck to neck in noble emulation。
〃What are we goin' off this way for？〃 gasped the simple Clarence。
〃Peyton and Gildersleeve are back thereand they'll see us；〃 gasped
Jim in reply。 It struck Clarence that the buffaloes were much nearer them
than the hunting party； and that the trampling hoofs of a dozen bulls were
close behind them； but with another gasp he shouted；
〃When are we going to hunt 'em？〃
〃Hunt THEM！〃 screamed Jim； with a hysterical outburst of truth； 〃why；
they're huntin' USdash it！〃
Indeed； there was no doubt that their frenzied horses were flying
before the equally frenzied herd behind them。 They gained a momentary
advantage by riding into one of the fissures； and out again on the other
side； while their pursuers were obliged to make a detour。 But in a few
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minutes they were overtaken by that part of the herd who had taken the
other and nearer side of the lagoon； and were now fairly in the midst of
them。 The ground shook with their trampling hoofs； their steaming
breath； mingling with the stinging dust that filled the air； half choked and
blinded Clarence。 He was dimly conscious that Jim had wildly thrown
his hatchet at a cow buffalo pressing close upon his flanks。 As they
swept down into another gully he saw him raise his fateful gun with utter
desperation。 Clarence crouched low on his horse's outstretched neck。
There was a blinding flash； a single stunning report of both barrels； Jim
reeled in one way half out of the saddle； while the smoking gun seemed to
leap in another over his head； and then rider and horse vanished in a
choking cloud of dust and gunpowder。 A moment after Clarence's horse
stopped with a sudden check； and the boy felt himself hurled over its head
into the gully； alighting on something that seemed to be a bounding
cushion of curled and twisted hair。 It was the shaggy shoulder of an
enormous buffalo！ For Jim's desperate random shot and double charge had
taken effect on the near hind leg of a preceding bull； tearing away the flesh
and ham…stringing the animal； who had dropped in the gully just in front of
Clarence's horse。
Dazed but unhurt； the boy rolled from the lifted fore quarters of the
struggling brute to the ground。 When he staggered to his feet again； not
only his horse was gone but the whole herd of buffaloes seemed to have
passed too； and he could hear the shouts of unseen hunters now ahead of
him。 They had evidently overlooked his fall； and the gully had concealed
him。 The sides before him were too steep for his aching limbs to climb；
the slope by which he and the bull had descended when the collision
occurred was behind the wounded animal。 Clarence was staggering
towards it when the bull； by a supreme effort； lifted itself on three legs；
half turned； and faced him。
These events had passed too quickly for the inexperienced boy to have
felt any active fear； or indeed anything but wild excitement and confusion。
But the spectacle of that shaggy and enormous front； that seemed to fill the
whole gully； rising with awful deliberation between him and escape； sent a
thrill of terror through his frame。 The great； dull； bloodshot eyes glared
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at him with a dumb； wondering fury； the large wet nostrils were so near
that their first snort of inarticulate rage made him reel backwards as from a
blow。 The gully was only a narrow and short fissure or subsidence of the
plain； a few paces more of retreat and he would be at its end； against an
almost perpendicular bank fifteen feet high。 If he attempted to climb its
crumbling sides and fell； there would be those short but terrible horns
waiting to impale him！ It seemed too terrible； too cruel！ He was so
small beside this overgrown monster。 It wasn't fair！ The tears started to
his eyes； and then； in a rage at the injustice of Fate； he stood doggedly still
with clenched fists。 He fixed his gaze with half…hysterical； childish fury
on those lurid eyes； he did not know that； owing to the strange magnifying
power of the bull's convex pupils； he； Clarence； appeared much bigger
than he really was to the brute's heavy consciousness； the distance from
him most deceptive； and that it was to this fact that hunters so often owed
their escape。 He only thought of some desperate means of attack。 Ah！
the six… shooter。 It was still in his pocket。 He drew it nervously；
hopelesslyit looked so small compared with his large enemy！
He presented it with flashing eyes； and pulled the trigger。 A feeble
click followed； another； and again！ Even THIS had mocked him。 He
pulled the trigger once more； wildly； there was a sudden explosion； and
another。 He stepped back； the balls had apparently flattened themselves
harmlessly on the bull's forehead。 He pulled again； hopelessly； there was
another report； a sudden furious bellow； and the enormous brute threw his
head savagely to one side； burying his left horn deep in the crumbling
bank beside him。 Again and again he charged the bank； driving his left
horn home； and bringing down the stones and earth in showers。 It was
some seconds before Clarence saw in a single