through the shrubbery at its edge, till Henry abruptly jerked his rein,
and slid out of his saddle. Full a quarter of a mile distant, on the
outline of the farthest hill, a long procession of buffalo were walking,
in Indian file, with the utmost gravity and deliberation; then more
appeared, clambering from a hollow not far off, and ascending, one
behind the other, the grassy slope of another hill; then a shaggy head
and a pair of short broken horns appeared issuing out of a ravine close
at hand, and with a slow, stately step, one by one, the enormous brutes
came into view, taking their way across the valley, wholly unconscious
of an enemy. In a moment Henry was worming his way, lying flat on
the ground, through grass and prickly-pears, toward his unsuspecting
victims. He had with him both my rifle and his own. He was soon out of
sight, and still the buffalo kept issuing into the valley. For a long
time all was silent. I sat holding his horse, and wondering what he was
about, when suddenly, in rapid succession, came the sharp reports of the
two rifles, and the whole line of buffalo, quickening their pace into
a clumsy trot, gradually disappeared over the ridge of the hill. Henry
rose to his feet, and stood looking after them.

"You have missed them," said I.

"Yes," said Henry; "let us go." He descended into the ravine, loaded the
rifles, and mounted his horse.

We rode up the hill after the buffalo. The herd was out of sight when
we reached the top, but lying on the grass not far off, was one quite
lifeless, and another violently struggling in the death agony.

"You see I miss him!" remarked Henry. He had fired from a distance of
more than a hundred and fifty yards, and both balls had passed through