Winnetou, the Apache Knight | Page 6

sport. He was
going to shoot a young cow. Pshaw! that, I thought, required no courage; a true man
would choose the strongest bull.
My horse was very restless; he, too, had never seen buffaloes before, and he pawed the
ground, frightened and so anxious to run that I could scarcely hold him. Would it not be
better to let him go, and attack the old bull myself? I debated this question inwardly,
divided between desire to go and regard for Sam's command, meantime watching his
every movement.
He had approached within a hundred feet of the buffaloes, when he spurred his horse and
galloped into the herd, past the mighty bull, up to the cow which he had selected. She
pricked up her ears, and started to run. I saw Sam shoot. She staggered, and her head
dropped, but I did not know whether or not she fell, for my eyes were chained to another
spot.
The great bull, which had been lying down, was getting up, and turned toward Sam
Hawkins. What a mighty beast! The thick head with the enormous skull, the broad
forehead with its short, strong horns, the neck and breast covered with the coarse mane,
made a picture of the greatest possible strength. Yes,.it was a marvellous creature, but the
sight of him aroused a longing to measure human strength with this power of the plains.
Should I or should I not? I could not decide, nor was I sure that my roan would take me
towards him; but just then my frightened horse sprang forth from our cover, and I
resolved to try, and spurred him towards the bull. He heard me coming, and turned to
meet me, lowering his head to receive horse and rider on his horns. I heard Sam cry out
something with all his might, but had no time even to glance at him. It was impossible to
shoot the buffalo, for in the first place he was not in the right position, and in the second
place my horse would not obey me, but for very fear ran straight towards the threatening
horns. The buffalo braced his hind legs to toss us, and raised his head with a mighty
bellow. Exerting all my strength, I turned my horse a little, and he leaped over the bull,
while the horns grazed my leg.

My course lay directly towards a mire in which the buffalo had been sleeping. I saw this,
and fortunately drew my feet from the stirrups; any horse slipped and we both fell.
How it all happened so quickly is incomprehensible to me now, but the next moment I
stood upright beside the morass, my gun still in my hand. The buffalo turned on the horse,
which had also risen quickly, and came on him in ungainly leaps, and this brought his
flank under my fire. I took aim. One more bound and the buffalo would reach my horse. I
pulled the trigger; he stopped, whether from fear or because he was hit I did not know,
but I fired again, two shots in rapid succession. He slowly raised his head, froze my blood
with a last awful roar, swayed from side to side, and fell where he stood.
I might have rejoiced over this narrow escape, but I had something else to attend to. I saw
Sam Hawkins galloping for dear life across the valley, followed by a steer not much
smaller than my bull had been.
When the bison is aroused his speed is as great as that of a horse; he never gives up his
object, and shows a courage and perseverance one would not have expected of him. So
this steer was pressing the rider hard, and in order to escape him Sam had to make many
turns, which so wearied his horse that he could not hold out as long as the buffalo, and it
was quite time that help arrived.
I did not stop to see whether or not my bull was dead. I quickly reloaded both chambers
of my gun, and ran across the grass towards Sam. He saw me, and turned his horse in my
direction. This was a great mistake, for it brought the horse's side towards the steer
behind him. I saw him lower his horns, and in an instant horse and rider were tossed in
the air, and fell to the ground with a dreadful thud. Sam cried for help as well as he could.
I was a good hundred and fifty feet away, but I dared not delay, though the shot would
have been surer at shorter range. I aimed at the steer's left shoulder-blade and fired. The
buffalo raised his head as if listening, turned slowly, then ran at me with all his might.
Luckily