“Our balls are hardened with tin,” observed Alexander.

“I know that,” replied Swinton; “but still they are most dangerous animals, especially if you fall in with a single buffalo.  It is much safer to attack a herd; but we have no time to talk over the matter now, only, as I say, be very careful, and whatever you do, do not approach one which is wounded, even if he be down on his knees.  But here comes Bremen with news.”

The Hottentot came up and announced that there was a large herd of buffaloes on the other side of the hill, and proposed that they should take a sweep round them, so as to drive them toward the river.

This proposal was considered good, and was acted upon; and, after riding about a mile, they gained the position which seemed the most desirable.  The dogs were then let loose, and the Hottentots on foot, spread themselves on every side, shouting so as to drive the animals before them.  The herd collected together and for a short while stood at bay with the large bulls in front, and then set off through the forest toward the river, followed by all the hunters on horse and on foot.  In a quarter of an hour the whole herd had taken refuge in a large pool in the river, which, with the reeds and rushes, and small islands in the center, occupied a long slip of ground.

The Major, with Swanevelt and two other Hottentots, proceeded further up the river, that they might cross it before the attack commenced, and the others agreed to wait until the signal was given by the Major’s firing.  As soon as they heard the report of the Major’s rifle, Swinton and Alexander, with their party, advanced to the banks of the river.  They plunged in, and were soon up to the horses’ girths, with the reeds far above their heads.  They could hear the animals forcing their way through the reeds, but could not see them; and after some severe labor, Swinton said—­“Alexander, it will be prudent for us to go back; we can do nothing here, and we shall stand a chance of being shot by our own people, who can not see us.  We must leave the dogs to drive them out, or the Hottentots and Bushmen; but we must regain the banks.”

Just as Swinton said this, a loud rushing was heard through the reeds.  “Look out!” cried he; but he could say no more before the reeds opened and a large hippopotamus rushed upon them, throwing over Alexander’s horse on his side, and treading Alexander and his horse both deep under the water as he passed over them and disappeared.  Although the water was not more than four feet in depth, it was with difficulty that the horse and rider could extricate themselves from the reeds, among which they had been jammed and entangled; and Alexander’s breath was quite gone when he at last emerged.  Bremen and Swinton hastened to give what assistance they could, and the horse was once more on his legs.  “My rifle,” cried Alexander; “it is in the water.”  “We will find it,” said Swinton:  “haste up to the banks as fast as you can, for you are defenseless.”