. A moment later and, with a muffled crash, all along the front
of the range, the earth sank into the tunnel, carrying with it half a
dozen panels of Last Bull's hated fence.

Almost in a moment the panic of the crowd subsided. Every one realized
just what had happened. Moreover, thanks to Bong's timely alarm, every
one had got out of the way in good season. All fear of earthquake being
removed, the crowd flocked back eagerly to stare down into the wrecked
tunnel, which formed now a sort of gaping, chaotic ditch, with sides at
some points precipitous and at others brokenly sloping. The throng was
noisy with excited interest and with relief at having escaped so
cleanly. The break had run just beneath one corner of the keepers'
cottage, tearing away a portion of the foundation and wrenching the
structure slightly aside without overthrowing it. Payne, who had been in
the midst of his Sunday toilet, came out upon his twisted porch, half
undressed and with a shaving-brush covered with lather in his hand. He
gave one look at the damage which had been wrought, then plunged indoors
again to throw his clothes on, at the same time sounding the hurry call
for the attendants in other quarters of the Park.

Last Bull, who had been standing on his knoll, with his back to the
throngs, had wheeled in astonishment at the heavy sound of the cave-in.
For a few minutes he had stared sullenly, not grasping the situation.
Then very slowly it dawned on him that his prison walls had fallen. Yes,
surely, there at last lay his way to freedom, his path to the great open
spaces for which he dumbly and vaguely hungered. With stately
deliberation he marched down from his knoll to investigate.

But presently another idea came into his slow mind. He saw the clamorous
crowds flocking back and ranging themselves along the edge of the chasm.
These were his enemies. They were coming to balk him. A terrible madness
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 on-rushing doom.

At the edge of the chasm--at this point forming not an actual drop, but
a broken slide--Last