der of the herd, a shaggy old bull, usually takes upon
himself to prepare the wallow.

It was a rugged monster of the largest size that did so on the present
occasion, to the intense delight of Dick Varley, who begged Joe to
lie still and watch the operation before trying to shoot one of the
buffalo cows. Joe consented with a nod, and the four spectators--for
Crusoe was as much taken up with the proceedings as any of
them--crouched in the grass, and looked on.

Coming up to the swampy spot, the old bull gave a grunt of
satisfaction, and going down on one knee, plunged his short thick
horns into the mud, tore it up, and cast it aside. Having repeated
this several times, he plunged his head in, and brought it forth
saturated with dirty water and bedaubed with lumps of mud, through
which his fierce eyes gazed, with a ludicrous expression of
astonishment, straight in the direction of the hunters, as if he meant
to say, "I've done it that time, and no mistake!" The other buffaloes
seemed to think so too, for they came up and looked on with an
expression that seemed to say, "Well done, old fellow; try that
again!"

The old fellow did try it again, and again, and again, plunging, and
ramming, and tearing up the earth, until he formed an excavation
large enough to contain his huge body. In this bath he laid himself
comfortably down, and began to roll and wallow about until he mixed up
a trough full of thin soft mud, which completely covered him. When he
came out of the hole there was scarcely an atom of his former self
visible!

The coat of mud thus put on by bulls is usually permitted by them to
dry, and is not finally got rid of until long after, when oft-repeated
rollings on the grass and washings by rain at length clear it away.

When the old bull vacated this delectable bath, another bull, scarcely
if at all less ferocious-looking, stepped forward to take his turn;
but he was interrupted by a volley from the hunters, which scattered
the animals right and left, and sent the mighty herds in the distance
flying over the prairie in wild terror. The very turmoil of their own
mad flight added to their panic, and the continuous thunder of their
hoofs was heard until the last of them disappeared on the horizon. The
family party which had been fired at, however, did not escape so well,
Joe's rifle wounded a fat young cow, and Dick Varley brought it down.
Henri had done his best, but as the animals were too far distant for