DANGER. 2? 



wind, which had been dying out, no longer blew. The 

 night-breeze had set in from the opposite direction, and its 

 sigh through the tree-tops, the hoot of the owl, and the 

 ripple of the stream were the only audible sounds and 

 soon all were fast asleep again. I have reason to believe 

 the guard slept, worn out with excitement and expectancy. 



Suddenly everyone jumped to his feet. A terrific row 

 smote upon our ears. The air shivered with noise ; the 

 earth trembled under our feet. The main herd was crossing 

 the river close to camp. The roar of the bulls, the lowing 

 of the cows, the tramp of thousands of feet, the splash of 

 water as the huge mass of animals plunged and struggled 

 through it, the crumbling fall of the bank as the buffaloes 

 forced their way up its steep face all were blended in one 

 mighty tumult. 



We stood spell-bound for an instant, then a thought of 

 terror forced itself upon us. What if the herd should come 

 our way ? What if they should, stampede over the camp ? 

 Nothing could save us. We should be crushed into the 

 earth, ground into powder. There would not be a " grease 

 spot left of us." We might climb a tree, true ; but we 

 should be left without transport, without food, without 

 ammunition, out in the wilderness on foot. Better to be 

 killed at once. There was but one safeguard fire ! 



True it would be a beacon to any Indians who might be 

 near, but that was only a possible, a contingent danger, 

 while an immediate one stared us in the face. A pile of 

 wood, grass, leaves, anything, everything, was raked to- 

 gether, the contents of the grease-pot poured over it, a 

 double-handful of powder scattered on, a match applied, 



