the huge
herd was about to sweep over them, they uttered a tremendous shout, and
all fired together right in the centre of the charging herd.

Bart set his teeth, feeling sure that he would be run down and trampled
to death; but the effect of the sudden and bold attack was to make the
herd separate. It was but a mere trifle, for the bison were so packed
together that their movements were to a great extent governed by those
behind; but still they did deviate a little, those of the front rank
swerving in two bodies to right and left, and that saved the little
party.

Bart had a sort of confused idea of being almost crushed by shaggy
quarters, of being in the midst of a sea of tossing horns and dark hair,
with lurid eyes glaring at him; then the drove was sweeping on--some
leaping down into the stream bed and climbing up the opposite side,
others literally tumbling down headlong, to be trampled upon by those
which followed; and then the rushing noise began to die away, for the
herd had swept on, and the traces they had left were the trampled ground
and a couple of their number shot dead by the discharge of rifles, and
lying in the river bed, while another had fallen a few hundred yards
farther on in the track of the flight.

Fortunately the horses had been held so closely up to the bluff that
they had escaped, though several of the bison had been forced by their
companions to the edge, and had taken the leap, some ten feet, into the
river bed below.

It had been a hard task, though, to hold the horses--the poor creatures
shivering with dread, and fighting hard to get free. The worst part of
the adventure revealed itself to Bart a few moments later when he turned
to look for Joses, whom he found rubbing his head woefully beside the
traces of their fire, over which the bison had gone in enormous numbers,
with the result that the embers had been scattered, and every scrap of
the delicious, freshly-roasted, well-browned meat trampled into the
sand.

"Never mind, Joses," cried Bart, bursting out laughing; "there's plenty
more meat cut up."

"Plenty more," growled Joses; "and that all so nicely done. Oh, the
wilful, wasteful beasts! As if there wasn't room enough anywhere else
on the plain without their coming right over us!"

"What does the Beaver mean?" said Bart just then.

"Mean? Yes; I might have known as much. He thinks there's Injun
somewhere; that they have been hunting the buffler and made 'em
stampede