AN ATTACK OF BISONS. 389 



an attentive ear, but compelled to acknowledge that our 

 hearing was defective. Thrice we repeated the manoeuvre ; 

 the fourth time we detected a weak and insignificant 

 sound, which gradually became more distinct, and from 

 moment to moment increased in volume. 



To shelter our steeds behind a leafy copse, and to place 

 in the same covert our three waggons, was the affair of a 

 few minutes ; then, gliding through an almost impervious 

 bush, we crept out 011 the opposite side. Each of us, still 

 hidden by the verdure, waited in silence for the moment 

 when the animals we heard approaching should come 

 within range of our guns. 



What were they 1 Stags, cayeutes, antelopes, or bisons'? 

 No one could say. The forked branch of a cotton-tree 

 drooping before me, I rested upon it a carbine which I had 

 borrowed from Mr. Mead's arsenal, and, with palpitating 

 heart, waited for the moment to loose the trigger. 



Suddenly, in the empty space between the bushes which 

 stood in front of us, a score of bisons made their appear- 

 ance, madly dashing in our direction. Such was the im- 

 petuosity of these animals, that we could hear them 

 snapping through every branch which obstructed their 

 course. Unfortunately, all were at such great distances 

 that it was impossible to aim with any chance of success. 



Already I had begun to fear that the whole herd would 

 escape us, when, at fifteen paces in front of me, I saw a 

 magnificent bison, dragging along one of his legs with 

 great difficulty. I waited, while sighting my gun, until 

 he had approached much nearer, when a splendid panther 

 bounded into the arena in evident pursuit of the bison. 

 I do not know a more graceful animal than this member 

 of the New World F elides ; with her head erect, and her 



