Of what happened then, neither Black Bow nor I could afterward remember with great clearness. There was a thundering bellow, a rush down the pathway toward the open, and we who were seeking the capture of a gentle doe were torn from our hiding place in the thicket, and carried sliding, bounding, and hurtling away toward where were the rolling pastures of the eaters of grass. Our noose was gripping the hind legs of a great bull aurochs, mightiest creature of the plain, perhaps the one the wolf dogs had annoyed. Even such huge beast, fearing little, was panic-stricken with that fearful thing grasping it. Clumsily, because so hampered, and still bellowing, floundering rudely across the billowy prairie, the great brute plunged along; and now dragged through the swift face-cutting grass, now bounced from hummock to hummock, we were hurled along furiously at the end of the rope. I cannot forget it, though it is not good to remember. The rope was about us both; and as we tore through weeds and brush, we bumped and bounded, and, coming to earth again, sometimes Black Bow would be atop, and sometimes I, though which of us was being bruised most fearfully could not be told. Once we tore through the top of a fallen thorn tree, and there was blood upon our faces then. The rope, it seemed to me, was cutting us in twain, but I could not think at the time save in a dim way, that Black Bow and I were going to our death. Then came what was a little less terrible. The aurochs was rushing along now where the plain was more even of surface, and we were dragged smoothly through the grass, and at a lesser pace, for the strain was telling upon even so powerful an animal. Something must come soon, though, or there would be two dead men at the end of the rope. It came, and saved our lives.