After reloading I rose on one knee and shot a second, which I hit in the knee, however, instead of behind the shoulder. I saw that it had noticed me, for it turned round, and, with its head down, dashed upon me from the heights. I sprung up and waved my handkerchief, and then threw myself full length in a narrow gully, while the hunting cry of my people in the fort reached my ear, and I recognised Trusty's voice among my dogs. I heard the thunder of the savage bull approaching me, as it made the ground shake under me, and I looked up, expecting every minute to see the monster leap over me; but when it was within about twenty yards of me it stopped with a terrible roar, as it had lost me, and now saw my dogs dashing up the valley like unchained furies. Prince Albert, one of my young bloodhounds, was the foremost, and behind him came Lady Elsler, his bitch, both equally fast and courageous. They dashed past me. I rose, and now came Trusty with his mouth wide open, furious that another dog should dare to assault the enemy before him. My hunting-cry echoed far over the prairie, where the two bloodhounds hung by the thick hide of the infuriated buffalo on its wounded side, while Trusty pinned its monstrous muzzle, in which he buried his fangs, which never loosed their hold. The buffalo fell back a few paces, and then rose, with Trusty still hanging to its snout, on its colossal hind legs, snorting furiously. I could not shoot on account of the dog, and the raging brute dashed over the prairie, holding Trusty in the air, who only every now and then was able to touch the ground with his feet. Ere long, however, the whole pack had caught up the fugitives, and the brave dogs hung like leeches from the buffalo's shaggy coat. Still it dashed on with them toward the river, at a spot where the bank was forty feet high. I looked after them with terror, for there was no doubt but that the buffalo would dash over, and in that case most of my dogs, and Trusty more especially, would be buried beneath it. A few more leaps, and they would have reached the precipice, but at this moment the monster rose in the air and turned over, covered by my dogs. It roared and raged, till the sound echoed through the forest, but was unable to get on its forelegs again, because Trusty kept its head pinned down to the ground. I could hardly breathe when I reached the buffalo: I held my rifle to its broad forehead, and sent a bullet through its hard skull. The fight was at an end, and Trusty came up to me, panting and wagging his tail, while he looked up to me as much as to say that it had been a tough job. He limped a little, and Leo, a very brave dog, had a considerable wound between the ribs, but none of the others were hurt.