Near had me twice, she did. Every time
I fire the old carbine, it jams, and I have to get the rod to it.
Gimme your rifle, Walter, and I'll go in and finish her."
"She must have a lead mine in her already," said the shooter. "Mind
she don't ketch you, Tommy."
Tommy went in, but couldn't find a sign of the cow. While they were
talking she had slipped along the belt of bamboos, and was then,
no doubt, waiting for a chance to rush somebody. As no one cared
to chance riding on to her in that jungle, she escaped with the
honours of war. The other shooter came up, having shot nine, and
reported that Considine had had a fall; his horse, not being used
to the country, had plunged up to his shoulders in a concealed
buffalo-wallow, and turned right over on him. Luckily, the buffalo
he was after was well ahead, and did not turn to charge him, but
he was very much shaken; when he came up, however, he insisted on
going on. They set to work to find the rest of the dead buffaloes--no
easy matter in that long grass--and all hands commenced skinning.
This job kept them till noonday, when they camped under some trees
for their midday meal, hobbling the horses. Then they rested for
an hour or two, packed the hides on the pack-horses (and heavily
loaded they were, each hide weighing about a hundredweight), and
went back to the hunt, scanning the plain carefully.
Pages:
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260