Gray nose to gray nose and each steady mustang Stretched neck and stretched nerve till the hollow earth rang And the foam from the flank and the croup and the neck Flew around like the spray on a storm-driven deck. Twenty miles! thirty miles――a dim distant speck―― Then a long reaching line and the Brazos in sight. And I rose in my seat with a shout of delight. I stood in my stirrup and looked to my right, But Revels was gone; I glanced by my shoulder And saw his horse stagger; I saw his head drooping Hard on his breast, and his naked breast stooping Low down to the mane as so swifter and bolder Ran reaching out for us the red-footed fire. To right and to left the black buffalo came, In miles and in millions, rolling on in despair, With their beards to the dust and black tails in the air. As a terrible surf on a red sea of flame Rushing on in the rear, reaching high, reaching higher, And he rode neck to neck to a buffalo bull, The monarch of millions, with shaggy mane full Of smoke and of dust, and it shook with desire Of battle, with rage and with bellowings loud And unearthly and up through its lowering cloud Came the flash of his eyes like a half-hidden fire, While his keen crooked horns through the storm of his mane Like black lances lifted and lifted again; And I looked but this once, for the fire licked through, And he fell and was lost, as we rode two and two.