Henri had done his best, but as the animals were too far distant for
his limited vision, he missed the cow he fired at, and hit the young
bull whose bath had been interrupted. The others scattered and fled.
"Well done, Dick," exclaimed Joe Blunt, as they all ran up to the cow
that had fallen. "Your first shot at the buffalo was a good un. Come,
now, an' I'll show ye how to cut it up an' carry off the tit-bits."
"Ah, mon dear ole bull!" exclaimed Henri, gazing after the animal
which he had wounded, and which was now limping slowly away. "You is
not worth goin' after. Farewell--adieu."
"He'll be tough enough, I warrant," said Joe; "an' we've more meat
here nor we can lift."
"But wouldn't it be as well to put the poor brute out o' pain?"
suggested Dick.
"Oh, he'll die soon enough," replied Joe, tucking up his sleeves and
drawing his long hunting-knife.
Dick, however, was not satisfied with this way of looking at it.
Saying that he would be back in a few minutes, he reloaded his rifle,
and calling Crusoe to his side, walked quickly after the wounded bull,
which was now hid from view in a hollow of the plain.
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