"I don't know if I hit him or not," answered Henry. "He burst upon us so
swiftly I hardly knew what to do."

While this talk was going on James Morris was crawling from under the wreck
of the tent. Barringford reloaded and ran on after the buffalo and Henry
did likewise. They could hear the great beast plunging headlong through the
brush.

"He has got it putty bad," remarked Barringford. "If he hadn't he wouldn't
ram into things so hard. Reckon he hardly knows what he is doin'."

"I hope we get him," answered Henry, his eyes filled with eager desire. "We
would have fresh meat for a long time, and plenty of jerked beef, too."

More than half a mile was covered and still the buffalo kept on, much to
the surprise of the young hunter and the pioneer.

"Not so badly hit as I reckoned on," panted Barringford.

"Perhaps I didn't hit him at all," was Henry's answer.

Soon they gained the top of a rise of ground. Here the rocks were smooth
and slippery, and in a twinkling Henry went down and rolled over and over
down a long hill.

"Hi! hi! stop yourself!" roared Barringford in quick alarm. "Stop, or ye'll
go over the cliff!"

His alarm was justified, for the hill ended in a cliff all of thirty feet
in height, below which were some jagged rocks and a small mountain torrent