surged through all his veins. He bellowed savage
warning and came thundering down the field, nose to earth, dark,
mountainous, irresistible.

The crowd yelled and shrank back. "He can't get across!" shouted some.
But others cried: "He can! He's coming! Save yourselves!" And with
shrieks they scattered wildly across the open, making for the kiosks,
the pavilions, the trees, anything that seemed to promise hiding or
shelter from that onrushing doom.

At the edge of the chasm--at this point forming not an actual drop,
but a broken slide--Last Bull hardly paused. He plunged down, rolled
over in the debris, struggled to his feet again instantly, and went
ploughing and snorting up the opposite steep. As his colossal front,
matted with mud, loomed up over the brink, his little eyes rolling
and flaming, and the froth flying from his red nostrils, he formed a
very nightmare of horror to those fugitives who dared to look behind
them.

Surmounting the brink, he paused. There were so many enemies, he knew
not which to pursue first. But straight ahead, in the very middle of
the open, and far from any shelter, he saw a huddled group of children
and nurses fleeing impotently and aimlessly. Shrill cries came from
the cluster, which danced with colors, scarlet and yellow and blue and
vivid pink. To the mad buffalo, these were the most conspicuous and
the loudest of his foes, and therefore the most dangerous. With a
bellow he flung his tail straight in the air, and charged after them.

An appalling hush fell, for a few heart-beats, all over the field.
Then from different quarters appeared uniformed attendants, racing and
shouting frantically to divert the bull's attention. From fleeing
groups black-coated men leapt forth, armed only with their
walking-sticks, and rushed desperately to defend the flock of
children, who now, in the extremity of their terror, were tumbling as
they ran. Some of the nurses were fleeing far in front, while others,
the faithful ones, with eyes starting from their heads, grabbed up
their little charges and struggled on under the burden.

Already Last Bull was halfway across the space which divided him from
his foes. The ground shook under his ponderous gallop. At this moment
Payne reappeared on the broken porch.

One glance showed him that no one was near enough to intervene. With a
face stern and sorrowful he lifted the deadly .405 Winchester which he
had brought out with him. The spot he covered was jus