The soldiers continued to reload and fire
and uttered shouts of joy whenever a buffalo fell. Transported by
excitement they scattered, and one man ran down near Paul and Henry,
detaching himself unconsciously from the rest of his comrades.
This Spaniard was young and athletic, and he fired at a huge bull. Had he
been an experienced hunter, he would have known better, as the bull was
too big and tough to eat, and he was also one of the savage guardians of
the herd. Moreover, the Spaniards were armed mostly with muskets, a weapon
far inferior to the Kentucky rifle.
This great bull stung in the flank, but stung only, uttered a roar of
pain, and, sharp horns down, charged directly upon the young Spaniard. He
was a terrifying sight as he tore up the grass of the prairie, his red
eyes flaming. The Spaniard, appalled, dropped his musket and ran for the
woods, the great beast thundering at his heels, and his hot breath, in
fancy at least, upon his back. Both Paul and Henry at that instant
recognized him. It was one of the unfortunate sentinels. Luiz.
"I'll save him," said Henry, "but keep back, Paul! Don't let him see you!"
The Spaniard was about to reach the edge of the wood, but another jump
would bring the raging buffalo upon him.
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