But it was not the weather alone that had produced this sudden abatement of the sportsmanlike zeal which the captain had always professed. He had been out on the afternoon before, together with several members of his party; but their hunting was attended with no other result than the loss of one of their best horses, severely injured by Sorel in vainly chasing a wounded bull. The captain, whose ideas of hard riding were all derived from transatlantic sources, expressed the utmost amazement at the feats of Sorel, who went leaping ravines and dashing at full speed up and down the sides of precipitous hills, lashing his horse with the recklessness of a Rocky Mountain rider. Unfortunately for the poor animal, he was the property of R., against whom Sorel entertained an unbounded aversion. The captain himself, it seemed, had also attempted to “run” a buffalo, but though a good and practiced horseman, he had soon given over the attempt, being astonished and utterly disgusted at the nature of the ground he was required to ride over. Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on the following morning Henry Chatillon, looking over the ocean-like expanse, saw near the foot of the distant hills something that looked like a band of buffalo. He was not sure, he said, but at all events, if they were buffalo there was a fine chance for a race. Shaw and I at once determined to try the speed of our horses. “Come, captain; we’ll see which can ride hardest, a Yankee or an Irishman.” But the captain maintained a grave and austere countenance. He mounted his led horse, however, though very slowly, and we set out at a trot. The game appeared about three miles distant. As we proceeded, the captain made various remarks of doubt and indecision, and at length declared he would have nothing to do with such a breakneck business; protesting that he had ridden plenty of steeple-chases in his day, but he never knew what riding was till he found himself behind a band of buffalo the day before yesterday. “I am convinced,” said the captain, “that ‘running’ is out of the question. Take my advice now and don’t attempt it. It’s dangerous, and of no use at all.” “Then why did you come out with us? What do you mean to do?” “I shall ‘approach,’” replied the captain. “You don’t mean to ‘approach’ with your pistols, do you? We have all of us left our rifles in the wagons.”