50 The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon 



before the bull again sprang forward. So quick was 

 it that I had no time to replace the ramrod, and I 

 threw it in the water, bringing my gun on full cock in 

 the same instant. However, he again halted, being 

 now within about seven paces from me, and we again 

 gazed fixedly at each other, but with altered feelings on 

 my part. I had faced him hopelessly with an empty 

 gun for more than a quarter of an hour, which seemed 

 a century. I now had a charge in my gun, which I 

 knew if reserved till he was within a foot of the muzzle 

 would certainly floor him, and I awaited his onset with 

 comparative carelessness, still keeping my eyes opposed 

 to his gaze. 



At this moment I heard a splashing in the water be- 

 hind me, accompanied by the hard breathing of some- 

 thing evidently disti'essed. The next moment I heard 

 B.'s voice. He could hardly speak for want of breath, 

 having run the whole way to my rescue, but I could 

 understand that he had only one barrel loaded and no 

 bullets left. I dared not turn my face from the buffalo, 

 but I cautioned B. to reserve his fire till the bull should 

 be close into me, and then to aim at the head. 



The words were hardly uttered, when, with the con- 

 centrated rage of the last twenty minutes, he rushed 

 straight at me. It was the work of an instant. B. 

 fired without effect. The horns were lowered, their 

 points were on either side of me, and the muzzle of the 

 gun barely touched his forehead when I pulled the 

 trigger, and three shillings' worth of small change 

 rattled into his hard head. Down he went, and rolled 

 over with the suddenly checked momentum of his 

 charge. Away went B. and I as fast as our heels 

 would carry us, through the water and over the plain, 



