Such is certainly its character. I recollect a history of a
buffalo-hunting adventure, told me by a Dutch farmer, who was himself an
eye-witness to the scene. He had gone out with a party to hunt a herd of
buffaloes which were grazing on a piece of marshy ground, sprinkled with
a few mimosa-trees. As they could not get within shot of the herd,
without crossing a portion of the marsh, which was not safe for horses,
they agreed to leave their steeds in charge of two Hottentots, and to
advance on foot; thinking that, in case any of the buffaloes should
charge them, it would be easy to escape by running back to the marsh,
which would bear the weight of a man, but not of a horse, much less that
of a buffalo.

"They advanced accordingly over the marsh, and being concealed by some
bushes, they had the good fortune to bring down, with the first volley,
three of the fattest of the herd; and also so severely wounded the great
bull, which was the leader of the herd, that he dropped down on his
knees, bellowing most furiously. Thinking that the animal was mortally
wounded, the foremost of the huntsmen walked out in front of the bushes
from which they had fired, and began to reload his musket as he
advanced, in order to give the animal a finishing shot. But no sooner
did the enraged animal see the man advancing, than he sprang up and
charged headlong at him. The man threw down his gun, and ran toward the
marsh; but the beast was so close upon him, that he despaired of
escaping by that direction, and turning suddenly round a clump of
copsewood, began to climb an old mimosa tree which stood close to it.

"The buffalo was, however, too quick for him. Bounding forward with a
roar, which the farmer told me was one of the most hideous and appalling
sounds that he ever heard, he caught the poor fellow with his terrible
horns, just as he had nearly got out of reach, and tossed him in the air
with such force, that after whirling round and round to a great height,
the body fell into the fork of the branches of the tree. The buffalo
went round the tree roaring, and looking for the man, until, exhausted
by wounds and loss of blood, it again fell down on its knees. The other
hunters then attacked and killed him; but they found their comrade, who
was still hanging in the tree, quite dead."

"Well; I have no doubt but that such would have been the fate of
Swanevelt or of me, had the brute got hold of us," said the Major; "I
never saw such a mali