he shot one, and,
as before, ate part of it raw. These creatures are so active that they
are difficult to shoot, and even when killed generally fall into their
holes and disappear. Crusoe, however, soon unearthed the dead animal
on this occasion. That night the travellers came to a stream of fresh
water, and Dick killed a turkey, so that he determined to spend a
couple of days there to recruit. At the end of that time he again set
out, but was able only to advance five miles when he broke down. In
fact, it became evident to him that he must have a longer period of
absolute repose ere he could hope to continue his journey; but to do
so without food was impossible. Fortunately there was plenty of water,
as his course lay along the margin of a small stream, and, as the arid
piece of prairie was now behind him, he hoped to fall in with birds,
or perhaps deer, soon.

While he was plodding heavily and wearily along, pondering these
things, he came to the brow of a wave from which he beheld a most
magnificent view of green grassy plains decked with flowers, and
rolling out to the horizon, with a stream meandering through it, and
clumps of trees scattered everywhere far and wide. It was a glorious
sight; but the most glorious object in it to Dick, at that time, was a
fat buffalo which stood grazing not a hundred yards off. The wind was
blowing towards him, so that the animal did not scent him, and, as he
came up very slowly, and it was turned away, it did not see him.

Crusoe would have sprung forward in an instant, but his master's
finger imposed silence and caution. Trembling with eagerness, Dick
sank flat down in the grass, cocked both barrels of his piece, and,
resting it on his left hand with his left elbow on the ground, he
waited until the animal should present its side. In a few seconds
it moved; Dick's eye glanced along the barrel, but it trembled--his
wonted steadiness of aim was gone. He fired, and the buffalo sprang
off in terror. With a groan of despair he fired again--almost
recklessly--and the buffalo fell! It rose once or twice and stumbled
forward a few paces, then it fell again. Meanwhile Dick reloaded with
trembling hand, and advanced to give it another shot; but it was not
needful--the buffalo was already dead.

"Now, Crusoe," said Dick, sitting down on the buffalo's shoulder and
patting his favourite on the head, "we're all right at last. You and I
shall have a jolly time o't, pup, from this time for'ar