Low as the voices had been, the stragglers had heard them and were beginning to look nervously from side to side. Suddenly a white streak darted through the air, and with an awful bellow one of the bisons fell, pierced through the eye by an arrow, and began to roll helplessly down the grassy slope. The remaining Pawnee had drawn first blood. But a second after, the four Canadians brought their guns to the shoulder and fired one after the other; two beasts fell dead and two more showed by their groaning that they were badly wounded. "Here goes," said Fred; and in another moment he had shot his first bison. "Get more to your left, or they'll bolt yet," shouted Dominique Dumont; and Coke, with an uncomfortable impression that the whole herd was charging upon him from the rear, nevertheless spurred his horse sidewards for several yards; then fired at a bull which was endeavouring to flee down the near side of the hill; and with a thrill of pride saw him fall on his knees and then roll over. The excitement of the hunt was on him now and he thought no more of the herd behind him. Had he looked back he might have seen that alarms on that score were groundless; for, contrary to their usual custom, at the first shot they had fled in a body. But it was their desertion that made the loiterers so determined to escape and rejoin them. Three more of their number had fallen dead or disabled before the arrows of the Pawnees on the farther side, who could now be seen pressing the game more closely; and, at a sign from the other Indian, the party in the valley now spurred up the hill, the six guns all crashing out together. In despair the remaining bulls sought the only sure escape open to them, and charged up the hill. Fred, the best mounted of the white men, was soon ahead of the rest, and, deaf to a laughing shout of "Whoa! Don't be in a hurry," from Paul Dumont, was soon on the heels of the biggest of the bisons. He had but one barrel loaded; the bullet took the animal in the hindquarters, making him stop and turn. The next thing Fred knew was that he was lying bruised and giddy, on his back, within a very few yards of the maddened brute; for his horse, young and easily confused, had suddenly reared at sight of the monster's motion towards him and had thrown his rider. [Illustration: ALMOST A TRAGEDY Fred had fired at the bison, but only hit it in the hind-quarters. It stopped and turned, frightening the horse, which threw its rider within a few yards of the maddened brute. His friends were powerless to help him, but a Pawnee on his wiry little mustang galloped up between them and with a couple of arrows brought the monster down.] Coke had reloaded by this time, but at first his aim was baulked by the prancing horse.