A Buffalo Drive 



front. There must have been forty or fifty more 

 sitting quite tight in their places whilst the fusillade 

 before described was going on. We never saw 

 this last crush, but Wilson's orderly ran back to 

 his master's perch in a hurry. In a short time I 

 saw him advancing with a Mauser, quite casually, 

 to me again. He came and delivered his message, 

 and talked for a few moments, and returned, stop- 

 ping on the way to do a bit of prowling about 

 "on his own." He was a short distance from 

 me, still messing about, when all of a sudden 

 there was a crash and a cloud of dust, and a 

 buffalo charged out at him from quite close, and 

 I saw him hoisted up on the brute's horns, very 

 slowly, which I couldn't understand at the time. 

 He slid off its back, and then the buffalo turned 

 round and, as I thought, gored him with her 

 horns when he was on the ground. I imagined 

 it was all over with him. It was a beastly sight. 

 The buffalo then disappeared again where it had 

 come from, and to my great relief I saw the man 

 stagger up and walk off. I shouted to Wilson, 

 "The man is up." As there was a tall bush 

 between him and the scene of the occurrence, and 

 beyond, a snorting and a cloud of dust, he had 

 only been imagining things. 



Then we talked or rather shouted to one 

 another, still on board our perches, and then 

 finale ! 



On comparing matters on our way home, I had 



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