184 The King of the Thundering Herd 



lights, or when it was wet, it looked quite 

 black. 



There seemed to be some dissension brew- 

 ing among the bulls who thronged at the 

 foot of the butte, for every few minutes one 

 of their number would start to ascend as 

 though to attack the King upon his throne. 



But his courage would soon forsake him 

 and he would satisfy himself by pawing 

 and bellowing. 



Finally there was one, more adventure- 

 some than the rest, who charged to the top 

 of the bluff, where for a few seconds he held 

 his own. But he was soon discomfited and 

 came ignominiously rushing back down 

 the steep slopes of the butte, his flanks 

 dripping blood, and limping badly in one 

 of his hind legs. 



For half an hour Buck watched the 

 manoeuvres of the rest of the bulls, his 

 own battle spirit growing with each passing 

 minute. 



