on raised his revolver
and fired. The great head swayed from side to side and the noble animal
dropped to his knees. Thinking the shot was fatal, Paul seized the
hunting knife and sprang forward to silt its throat, having first
flung a lot of brush on the smoldering fire. As the flames shot up, the
elk rose to his feet and commenced to retreat slowly across the bar.
Fully expecting to see him fall at every step, Paul followed as fast as
the cumbersome rubber pants would permit. Instead of weakening, as
Boyton thought he would, the elk gained strength and speed and went
crashing through the timber out of all possibility of pursuit.
Boyton returned disappointedly to the camp, where the blaze of the fire
was casting a reflection almost across the river. Excited and blown
after his chase, he sat down to rest, when to his surprise he saw the
paddle in the fire, nearly burned in two. Hastily snatching it
out, he found one blade utterly ruined and it was anything but cheerful
to contemplate his helplessness in those wilds without the means of
propelling himself; like a steamer without her wheel. He was not a man
to be easily overcome by trifles, however, and he did not helplessly
contemplate the situation for long; but seizing a hatchet, he chopped
down a small sapling and with his knife, began whittling out
another. He worked steadily until ten o'clock next morning before it was
completed and then pulled away to make up for lost time. If anything,
the river was rougher and wilder than it had been the day before;
running between high buttes which formed the upper edge of the Bad
Lands. Late that afternoon, just as he had noticed a break in the hills,
a tremendous roaring sound struck his ear. The river seemed to
quiver and dance. He thought there was an earthquake; but he soon
discovered the cause of the unusual commotion. A herd of buffalo
was approaching the river. They came down the slope as thick as ants,
waded out as far as they could and swam across. The river was perfectly
brown with them and they were fully three-quarters of an hour in
passing. The last to cross were the calves and a few stragglers.
They paid no attention whatever to Paul, who was hanging to the root
of a tree for safety; he pushed ahead as soon as he could get by. The
river for miles was churned to foam by their passage. It was the last
great drove of buffalo to cross the river, as they were