With a snort, Mogul raised his heavy head; instantly he sighted the great hulking thing which was making its way towards the calf. With a wild bellow of rage, he charged straight for the waving underbrush, and as he came on Ezekiel, the terrible one, rose upon his great haunches and boldly faced Mogul, for the grizzly is absolute monarch of the plains, fearing no foe. For a moment Mogul, the fearless, was daunted by the sight of the tremendous creature facing him. With outstretched paws armed with great, razor-like claws, its wide, red mouth bared to show its cruel teeth, the bear came on with savage, thunder-like growls. It was unfortunate, however, that Ezekiel did not travel on all fours, for, seeing his advantage, the buffalo lowered its shaggy head, lunged straight for the unprotected stomach of the bear and, before it could even seize him in its terrible grasp, he had pinned its great body to earth, pressing his sharp horns, and making the bear howl for mercy. Then, after goring the bear well, without waiting to see whether Ezekiel was able to get up or not Mogul bellowed a summons; the cow and calf joined him, and they tore off to join the herd. One day, as the herd was contentedly grazing together, Mogul and his followers, upon a small plateau which ended in a high cliff, across the plains came a band of hunting Indians. Once the herd becomes frightened it usually starts a stampede. One buffalo cow snorted in alarm, then the whole herd suddenly lost their heads, which was just what the Indians had planned. Wheeling about, Mogul led his herd straight away from the cliff, off towards a canyon. Alas for Black King! The Indians were behind him, and, completely losing his head, he charged across the plateau, heading for the cliff. Like thunder was the roar of the thousands of hoofs, which fairly shook the earth as they madly ran, following their leader to certain destruction. Roaring, bellowing, raising the dust in clouds, they ran. Too late! When at the very verge of the cliff Black King saw their peril, he swerved, bravely trying to turn back. Like an avalanche the herd rushed upon him, a great brown waving mass of heads and flashing hoofs, and over the cliff they fell. When the Indians went back to their village they held a festival and gave the great "dance of the war shield" to celebrate their fine hunt. They had enough buffalo meat to feed all the dogs of the village, and skins enough to keep the squaws busy curing them for many moons. Afterwards they had a great feast, and there was joy in every wigwam of the village.