These creatures are very dangerous
sometimes, however, and when hard pressed by hunger will even attack
man. The day after this hunt the travellers came upon a wounded old
buffalo which had evidently escaped from the Indians (for a couple of
arrows were sticking in its side), only to fall a prey to his deadly
enemies, the white wolves. These savage brutes hang on the skirts of
the herds of buffaloes to attack and devour any one that may chance,
from old age or from being wounded, to linger behind the rest. The
buffalo is tough and fierce, however, and fights so desperately that,
although surrounded by fifty or a hundred wolves, he keeps up the
unequal combat for several days before he finally succumbs.
The old bull that our travellers discovered had evidently been long
engaged with his ferocious adversaries, for his limbs and flesh were
torn in shreds in many places, and blood was streaming from his sides.
Yet he had fought so gallantly that he had tossed and stamped to death
dozens of the enemy. There could not have been fewer than fifty wolves
round him; and they had just concluded another of many futile attacks
when the hunters came up, for they were ranged in a circle round their
huge adversary--some lying down, some sitting on their haunches to
rest, and others sneaking about, lolling out their red tongues and
licking their chops as if impatient to renew the combat.
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