k on stony
ground, I came upon the marks quite fresh in a bit of swampy ground, and
a few hundred yards further found Master Gray-tail rolling in the mud of
a nearly dry water-hole as comfortably as possible. I put down the
saddle and called him; at that moment I heard a loud roar and crash in a
scrub behind me, and out rushed, at a terrific pace, a black Highland
bull charging straight at me. I had only just time to throw myself on
one side flat on the ground as he thundered by me. My next move was to
scramble among a small clump of trees, one of great size, the rest were
mere saplings.

The bull having missed his mark, turned again, and first revenged
himself by tossing my saddle up in the air, until, fortunately, it
lodged in some bushes; then, having smelt me out, he commenced a circuit
round the trees, stamping, pawing, and bellowing frightfully. With his
red eyes, and long, sharp horns, he looked like a demon; I was quite
unarmed, having broken my knife the day before; my pistols were in my
holsters, and I was wearied to death. My only chance consisted in
dodging him round the trees until he should be tired out. Deeply did I
regret having left my faithful dogs Boomer and Bounder behind.

The bull charged again and again, sometimes coming with such force
against the tree that he fell on his knees, sometimes bending the
saplings behind which I stood until his horns almost touched me. There
was not a branch I could lay hold of to climb up. How long this awful
game of "_touchwood_" lasted, I know not; it seemed hours; after the
first excitement of self-preservation passed off, weariness again took
possession of me, and it required all the instinct of self-preservation
to keep me on my feet; several times the bull left me for a few seconds,
pacing suddenly away, bellowing his malignant discontent; but before I
could cross over to a better position he always came back at full speed.
My tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, my eyes grew hot and misty, my
knees trembled under me, I felt it impossible to hold out until dark. At
length I grew desperate, and determined to make a run for the opposite
covert the moment the bull turned toward the water-hole again. I felt
sure I was doomed, and thought of it until I grew indifferent. The bull
seemed to know I was worn out, and grew more fierce and rapid in his
charges, but just when I was going to sit down under the great tree, and
let him do his worst, I heard the rattle of a