Nearest to Hadden,
who alone of the party had a rifle, stood the heifer broadside on--a
beautiful shot. Remembering that she would make the best beef, he lifted
his Martini, and aiming at her immediately behind the shoulder, gently
squeezed the trigger. The rifle exploded, and the heifer fell dead, shot
through the heart. Strangely enough the other buffaloes did not at once
run away. On the contrary, they seemed puzzled to account for the sudden
noise; and, not being able to wind anything, lifted their heads and
stared round them.
The pause gave Hadden space to get in a fresh cartridge and to aim
again, this time at the old bull. The bullet struck him somewhere in the
neck or shoulder, for he came to his knees, but in another second was up
and having caught sight of the cloud of smoke he charged straight at it.
Because of this smoke, or for some other reason, Hadden did not see him
coming, and in consequence would most certainly have been trampled or
gored, had not Nahoon sprung forward, at the imminent risk of his own
life, and dragged him down behind an ant-heap.
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