r, still going at full gallop, methodically
ejected the used cartridge and put in another without losing his place
at the tail of the flying mob. The noise of the carbine made the mob
divide, and Hugh found himself going full speed after three that came
his way. Wild with excitement, he drove Close Up after the nearest, and
made ready to fire at the right moment. The long gallop had winded him;
his arm was almost numbed with the strain of carrying the carbine, which
now seemed to weigh a ton.

Close Up, true to his name, made a dash at the nearest buffalo, and got
close enough in all conscience; but what with the jerking to and fro of
the gallop, and the rolling gait and sudden swerves of the buffalo, and
the occasional blunderings of the horse in broken ground, Hugh never
seemed to have the carbine pointed right. Close Up, finding it did
not go off when he expected, began to slacken pace and gallop in an
undecided way. It sounds easy enough to gallop up to an animal which you
can beat for pace, but anyone who has ever tried to lay a whip on the
back of a bullock knows it is not so easy as it looks to get more than
one or two clips home. Hugh found the buffalo holding its own for pace,
and every time he drew up it dodged before he could make sure of hitting
the loin. Cover seemed to be getting very near. At last he leaned out as
far as he could, held the rifle in one hand, and took a "speculator" at
the flying buffalo. He hit it somewhere, but hadn't time to see where;
for, with a snort like a grampus, the beast wheeled in its tracks and
charged so suddenly that old Close Up only just dodged it by a yard or
two. It rushed him for a couple of hundred yards, and then stopped. Hugh
managed to eject the cartridge and load, and then cantered after the
animal, which had started again at a sullen trot, with the blood pouring
from its flank. As he galloped up to administer the "coup de grace,"
meaning to make no mistake about hitting the loin this time, the buffalo
suddenly wheeled and charged him again, and Close Up executed another
hurried retreat. For a while they took it up and down--first buffalo
hunting man, then man hunting buffalo--while Hugh fired whenever he had
the chance, without seeming to discompose the brute at all. At last a
lucky shot struck some vital spot inside; the beast stopped, staggered,
and fell dead without a sound. Hugh looked round. He was alone; his mate
was just visible far away over the plain, stil