uffalo missed their loss, another red and black baby kicked helplessly
on the grass and sent up vain, weak calls, and at last lay still, with
the hunter's boot tied to his cords.

Four! Jones counted them aloud, add in his mind, and kept on. Fast,
hard work, covering upward of fifteen miles, had begun to tell on herd,
horse and man, and all slowed down to the call for strength. The fifth
time Jones closed in on his game, he encountered different
circumstances such as called forth his cunning.

The herd had opened up; the mothers had fallen back to the rear; the
calves hung almost out of sight under the shaggy sides of protectors.
To try them out Jones darted close and threw his lasso. It struck a
cow. With activity incredible in such a huge beast, she lunged at him.
Kentuck, expecting just such a move, wheeled to safety. This duel,
ineffectual on both sides, kept up for a while, and all the time, man
and herd were jogging rapidly to the north.

Jones could not let well enough alone; he acknowledged this even as he
swore he must have five. Emboldened by his marvelous luck, and yielding
headlong to the passion within, he threw caution to the winds. A lame
old cow with a red calf caught his eye; in he spurred his willing horse
and slung his rope. It stung the haunch of the mother. The mad grunt
she vented was no quicker than the velocity with which she plunged and
reared. Jones had but time to swing his leg over the saddle when the
hoofs beat down. Kentuck rolled on the plain, flinging his rider from
him. The infuriated buffalo lowered her head for the fatal charge on
the horse, when the plainsman, jerking out his heavy Colts, shot her
dead in her tracks.

Kentuck got to his feet unhurt, and stood his ground, quivering but
ready, showing his steadfast courage. He showed more, for his ears lay
back, and his eyes had the gleam of the animal that strikes back.

The calf ran round its mother. Jones lassoed it, and tied it down,
being compelled to cut a piece from his lasso, as the cords on the
saddle had given out. He left his other boot with baby number five. The
still heaving, smoking body of the victim called forth the stern,
intrepid hunter's pity for a moment. Spill of blood he had not wanted.
But he had not been able to avoid it; and mounting again with
close-shut jaw and smoldering eye, he galloped to the north.

Kentuck snorted; the pursuing wolves shied off in the grass; the pale
sun began to slant westward. The