1 54 The King of the Thundering Herd 



plunge, a horrible frenzied mass, into a 

 coulee or a canyon. 



But one thing was certain, whether the 

 way was smooth, or rough, the herd would 

 still sweep on. What would it matter if a 

 few score head went into the bottom of a 

 gulch to bridge over the crevasse that the 

 rest might cross ? The entire mass was 

 fear-mad, wholly without sense of wisdom, 

 even without their usual intuition, rushing 

 like a tidal wave, a sea of tense muscles 

 and straining sinews, to what end no one 

 could tell. 



Bennie dropped the little rifle that he 

 treasured above almost any other posses- 

 sion in the world, and buried his hands in 

 the long thick hair of Buck. He set his 

 teeth hard and gripped the sides of the 

 buffalo with his legs. The roar of those 

 myriad hoofs was like constant thunder in 

 his ears. His heart was sick within him. 

 Would he ever see home and friends again ? 



