behind the crest of the next hill, their short tails erect, and their
hoofs twinkling through a cloud of dust.

At that moment, I heard Shaw and Henry shouting to me; but the muscles
of a stronger arm than mine could not have checked at once the furious
course of Pontiac, whose mouth was as insensible as leather. Added to
this, I rode him that morning with a common snaffle, having the day
before, for the benefit of my other horse, unbuckled from my bridle the
curb which I ordinarily used. A stronger and hardier brute never trod
the prairie; but the novel sight of the buffalo filled him with terror,
and when at full speed he was almost incontrollable. Gaining the top of
the ridge, I saw nothing of the buffalo; they had all vanished amid the
intricacies of the hills and hollows. Reloading my pistols, in the best
way I could, I galloped on until I saw them again scuttling along at
the base of the hill, their panic somewhat abated. Down went old Pontiac
among them, scattering them to the right and left, and then we had
another long chase. About a dozen bulls were before us, scouring over
the hills, rushing down the declivities with tremendous weight and
impetuosity, and then laboring with a weary gallop upward. Still
Pontiac, in spite of spurring and beating, would not close with them.
One bull at length fell a little behind the rest, and by dint of much
effort I urged my horse within six or eight yards of his side. His back
was darkened with sweat; he was panting heavily, while his tongue lolled
out a foot from his jaws. Gradually I came up abreast of him, urging
Pontiac with leg and rein nearer to his side, then suddenly he did what
buffalo in such circumstances will always do; he slackened his gallop,
and turning toward us, with an aspect of mingled rage and distress,
lowered his huge shaggy head for a charge. Pontiac with a snort, leaped
aside in terror, nearly throwing me to the ground, as I was wholly
unprepared for such an evolution. I raised my pistol in a passion to