The Last Herd 



escaping steam, and deep grunts from cavernous 

 chests evinced anger and impatience that might, at 

 any moment, bring the herd to a defiant stand. 



He whizzed the shortened noose over the head of 

 a calf that was laboring painfully to keep up, and 

 had slipped down, when a mighty grunt told him of 

 peril. Never looking to see whence it came, he 

 sprang into the saddle. Fiery Kentuck jumped into 

 action, then hauled up with a shock that almost 

 threw himself and rider. The lasso, fast to the 

 horse, and its loop end round the calf, had caused the 

 sudden check. 



A maddened cow bore down on Kentuck. The 

 gallant horse straightened in a jump, but dragging 

 the calf pulled him in a circle, and in another moment 

 he was running round and round the howling, kicking 

 pivot. Then ensued a terrible race, with horse and 

 bison describing a twenty-foot circle. Bang ! Bang ! 

 The hunter fired two shots, and heard the spats of 

 the bullets. But they only augmented the frenzy of 

 the beast. Faster Kentuck flew, snorting in terror; 

 closer drew the dusty, bouncing pursuer; the calf 

 spun like a top; the lasso strung tighter than wire. 

 Jones strained to loosen the fastening, but in vain. 

 He swore at his carelessness in dropping his knife 

 by the last calf he had tied. He thought of shooting 

 the rope, yet dared not risk the shot. A hollow 



69 





