CHARGED BY A BULL
THE first thing the boys noticed was the fact that two of the great
beasts had gone down in answer to their shots. The camp was likely to
have an abundance of fresh meat that night at least.
[Illustration: "'RUN FOR THE TREES, ROGER!' SHOUTED DICK"]
Then another thing drew their attention.
"Look at the bull!" cried Roger suddenly, as he noticed that the
guardian of the herd was plunging in their direction as though bent on
seeking a prompt revenge for the loss of his charges.
The predicament of the boys was not at all to their liking. Without a
bullet in their guns, and with a maddened bull bearing down upon them
at full speed, unless they made a rapid retreat to the timber they were
in danger of being gored and trampled by the horns and hoofs of the
beast.
"Run for the trees, Roger!" shouted Dick, as he himself turned and made
for the timber.
Fortunately they were not far from shelter. Roger had before been,
inclined to lament the fact that the mass of dead grass did not allow
them to creep closer to the game, but he changed his mind now, when
every yard counted against them.
Once Roger caught his foot somehow, and fell flat. Dick seemed to
know it, although his back was turned to his chum at the time, for
he instantly stopped in his headlong rush and whirled around. It was
his intention to stand by his comrade, come what would, to divert, if
necessary, the attention of the charging animal until such time as
Roger could gain his feet.
It turned out that the sacrifice was not needed, for, nimble as a cat,
Roger gained his feet like a flash, and, putting on a fresh spurt,
succeeded in reaching the outermost trees as soon as Dick.
They were none too soon. The galloping buffalo was close at their
heels. Had the friendly timber been ten paces further off there might
have been a different story to tell.
Each boy chose a tree behind which he tried to shield himself. The bull
rushed past, but immediately came to a halt, turned and started to
chase Roger around the tree which he had taken for a guard.
"Faster, Roger, faster!" called Dick, alarmed lest the animal overtake
the boy.
This shout caused the bull to take notice of his other enemy, and he
plunged directly toward Dick, who was compelled to make circles around
his shelter at a lively pace, in order to keep from being impaled on
those wicked-looking short black horns.
Having the inside track the boy of course was given an advantage, but
it seemed as though that tough old monster would never tire. He kept
on circling the tree, making savage prods at the legs of his intended
quarry whenever Dick lagged a little, or, slipping, fell back a step or
so.
Roger started just then to give tongue at the top of his voice,
thinking that it was not altogether fair to have the game so one-sided.
His generous intention was to attract the animal once more toward
himself; and in this he fully succeeded.
Now it was Roger who danced a tune that was far from being a stately
minuet. Lively boy that he was, that old rascal of a buffalo bull put
him to his best paces in order to keep out of danger.
Roger was hard to subdue even at such a time as this. It would have
seemed to be the part of wisdom to conserve every atom of his breath
for the work before him, yet he was continually bursting out with
shouts to his comrade.
"Did you ever see anything so mad as he is, Dick?" he called.
"Be careful, Roger; he almost got you that time, when he drove his head
against the tree. It may seem like a frolic to you, but the danger is
there all the same!"
"It's the greatest race I ever had, barring none!" gasped the other, as
he continued to dodge the horns that were forever trying to catch him
off his guard.
"Better throw your gun away, for it's likely to trip you!" advised
Dick; and hardly had the words escaped his lips than there came another
sudden change of tactics on the part of the charging bull, with Dick
again doing the dodging.
Roger took this occasion to change his tree, selecting one that offered
a little better chance for making a speedy circuit, for of course he
anticipated soon coaxing the infuriated animal to turn back on him.
There had been another reason for his change of base which was made
apparent a little later on. Dick was making splendid time around
that trunk. He also managed to keep a close watch upon his shaggy
antagonist, and was thus able to anticipate the latter when, with a
sudden stop and a whirl the bull sought to catch him napping and come
up in the rear.
"Dick, I've got a plan!" cried Roger.
"Tell me what it is then," panted the other, plainly distressed for
want of breath, for the constant struggle to avoid the horns of the
bull was telling on him.
"I must get him started after me again, you see," Roger commenced to
explain.
"Yes, of course!" Dick managed to say as he found a few seconds of
relief while the animal stood pawing the ground, and apparently
debating within his mind what course he should take next.
"I'm a little the more agile, you see," continued Roger, "and likely to
tire him out in the end, if put to it."
"All very well," Dick told him, "but where do I come in?"
"Oh! I figured on your loading your gun, and fixing him in a hurry!"
said Roger, with a laugh.
Dick even joined in that expression of merriment. Strange that up to
then neither of them seemed to have given the first thought to the fact
that he gripped a fire-arm in his hand, which it would take only a
short time to put in serviceable condition.
"Well said, Roger! and, if you can coax the old fellow to make a change
in his program, I'll look after the gun part of the affair, I promise
you."
"Look out, he's after you again, Dick!"
Dick knew that long before Roger could get the words of warning framed,
and he was speedily making his rapid circuits around the tree with the
snorting animal hot on his heels.
With the intention of carrying out his part of the arrangement Roger
now started to shout and make all manner of derisive gestures by which
he hoped to attract the attention, and excite the ire, of the raging
animal.
It was some time before this maneuver met with the success Roger hoped
for, but in the end he managed to coax the bull into making a dash
toward his tree. Thereupon Roger exerted himself to keep the animal
busy, so that Dick should not be interrupted in his task.
In order to do this the better he kept up his jeering cries, and, when
he found the chance, even made thrusts at the beast with his long gun,
once striking him smartly on the head.
The pace was beginning to tell on the buffalo. His powers of endurance
had diminished since that eventful day when in mortal combat he had
slain the old guardian of the herd, and usurped his position of trust.
Meanwhile Dick was far from being idle.
He had, as soon as the attention of the bull was diverted, swung his
powder horn around, after removing the wooden stopper, and carefully
measured out a charge. This he managed to pour down the barrel of his
rifle, after which, from the cavity in the stock of the weapon, he took
a greased patch in which the bullet was to be enclosed. After that the
ramrod was used to punch the bullet down into the interior of the long
barrel until it finally lodged snugly upon the powder charge.
Nothing remained but the priming, which was a brief matter at the most;
and Dick was gladdened by the thought that now he held in his hand the
means for terminating that ridiculous dance which the old bull was
leading Roger.
A tree interfered somewhat with his view, and Dick ran a little closer,
in order to make certain of his aim. Dropping on one knee after the
fashion of expert marksmen of the day, he waited until there came a
little lull in the mad chase.
"Now you can get him, Dick!" called Roger, between his gasps for
breath, as the bull stopped short to strike again his hoof violently
against the ground.
It was the opening the pioneer boy had been waiting for, and
immediately the long gun shot out a puff of smoke as the report
sounded. The buffalo had been hit in a vital spot, for he fell to the
ground without even one jump.
Roger started to give a triumphant shout, when he cut it short,
for something had leaped through the air; and, upon looking at the
still-quivering body of the stricken bull, what was the boy's surprise
to see a crouching figure fastened upon it, and to hear the vicious
snarl of the savage panther as, with ears pressed back against his
head, he glared defiantly at the young hunter.