IN THE OLD WEST 207 



was so weak that he felt difficulty in supporting 

 himself; and knowing how futile would be his at- 

 tempts to hunt, he sallied from the camp, con- 

 vinced that a few hours more would see the last of 

 him. 



He had scarcely raised his eyes, when, hardly 

 crediting his senses, he saw within a few hundred 

 yards of him an old bull, worn with age, lying on 

 the prairie. Two wolves were seated on their 

 haunches before him, their tongues lolling from 

 their mouths, whilst the buffalo was impotently 

 rolling his ponderous head from side to side, his 

 bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely at his tormentors, 

 and flakes of foam, mixed with blood, dropping 

 from his mouth over his long shaggy beard. La 

 Bonte was transfixed; he scarcely dared to 

 breathe, lest the animal should be alarmed and es- 

 cape. Weak as it was, he could hardly have fol- 

 lowed it, and, knowing that his own and compan- 

 ion's life hung upon the success of his shot, he 

 scarcely had strength to raise his rifle. By dint 

 of extraordinary exertions and precautions 

 which were totally unecessary, for the poor old 

 bull had not a move in him the hunter ap- 

 proached within shot. Lying upon the ground, 

 he took a long steady aim, and fired. The buf- 

 falo raised its matted head, tossed it wildly for 

 an instant, and, stretching out its limbs convul- 

 sively, turned over on its side and was dead. 



Killbuck heard the shot, and, crawling from 



