I was near enough to shoot with certainty, but the buffalo was turned from me, and I was obliged to wait till it moved before I could kill it. I lay for a long time motionless with Trusty behind me, whose head I pressed down to the ground. At last the bull started round, as the flies had probably given it too fierce a sting, and exposed its whole enormous side to me. I aimed just behind the shoulder-blade, and as soon as I had fired laid myself flat on the ground. The buffalo darted round several times looking for its enemy, but then tottered against the tree, where it leant against the withered branch to keep itself from falling, while it burst into a fearful roar and rolled its enormous head. I gave Trusty a nod, and with a few leaps he was in front of the buffalo and pinned it by the nose. I had just reloaded when the bushes parted on the other side of the meadow at a hundred points, the whole herd of buffaloes dashed through and galloped towards me. They had heard the complaints of their lord and Trusty's furious barking, and hurried up to help their comrade. I stood quite exposed, and expected that on seeing me they would take to flight, but they dashed on straight towards me. The foremost of the herd were only thirty paces from me when I took out my white pocket-handkerchief and waved it in the air. The ranks now broke, and the terrified animals dashed past me on the right and left; upon which I sent two bullets after them, which certainly went home, but were carried away by the wounded. Tiger at this moment came through the bushes with the horses, and said to me, laughingly, that if I had not had the handkerchief the herd would certainly have run over me. We went up to the shot buffalo, while our horses grazed near us, paunched it, and then put up a number of white rags we had brought for the purpose, and fastened to sticks, and laid a white cloth over it to keep off the carrion crows. Then we mounted our horses for the purpose of riding home and fetching the meat in the mule cart. We were in our saddles when a herd of about 400 buffaloes appeared on a rise in the prairie, halted in a long point, and stared at us in amazement. The distance was scarce 300 yards. Tiger looked at me with a smile, and cried "Alligator Creek," while pointing to the herd. I made him a sign to ride on, and we were soon galloping behind the flying buffaloes, which pressed close together and thundered on ahead of us in a cloud of dust. Tiger's clear hunting yell urged the terrified monsters to a more rapid flight, and in ten minutes we approached a swampy stream which crossed the prairie obliquely, and which we had christened "Alligator Creek," from the number of those animals in it. The banks were very steep and above twelve feet high, the water almost dried up, and the deep bed only contained black thick mud.