and from amid the multitude rose little columns of dust where the buffalo were rolling on the ground.  Here and there a great confusion was perceptible, where a battle was going forward among the bulls.  We could distinctly see them rushing against each other, and hear the clattering of their horns and their hoarse bellowing.  Shaw was riding at some distance in advance, with Henry Chatillon; I saw him stop and draw the leather covering from his gun.  Indeed, with such a sight before us, but one thing could be thought of.  That morning I had used pistols in the chase.  I had now a mind to try the virtue of a gun.  Delorier had one, and I rode up to the side of the cart; there he sat under the white covering, biting his pipe between his teeth and grinning with excitement.

“Lend me your gun, Delorier,” said I.

“Oui, monsieur, oui,” said Delorier, tugging with might and main to stop the mule, which seemed obstinately bent on going forward.  Then everything but his moccasins disappeared as he crawled into the cart and pulled at the gun to extricate it.

“Is it loaded?” I asked.

“Oui, bien charge; you’ll kill, mon bourgeois; yes, you’ll kill—­c’est un bon fusil.”

I handed him my rifle and rode forward to Shaw.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Come on,” said I.

“Keep down that hollow,” said Henry, “and then they won’t see you till you get close to them.”

The hollow was a kind of ravine very wide and shallow; it ran obliquely toward the buffalo, and we rode at a canter along the bottom until it became too shallow, when we bent close to our horses’ necks, and then finding that it could no longer conceal us, came out of it and rode directly toward the herd.  It was within gunshot; before its outskirts, numerous grizzly old bulls were scattered, holding guard over their females.  They glared at us in anger and astonishment, walked toward us a few yards, and then turning slowly round retreated at a trot which afterward broke into a clumsy gallop.  In an instant the main body caught the alarm.  The buffalo began to crowd away from the point toward which we were approaching, and a gap was opened in the side of the herd.  We entered it, still restraining our excited horses.  Every instant the tumult was thickening.  The buffalo, pressing together in large bodies, crowded away from us on every hand.  In front and on either side we could see dark columns and masses, half hidden by clouds of dust, rushing along in terror and confusion, and hear the tramp and clattering of ten thousand hoofs.  That countless multitude of powerful brutes, ignorant of their own strength, were flying in a panic from the approach of two feeble horsemen.  To remain quiet longer was impossible.

“Take that band on the left,” said Shaw; “I’ll take these in front.”