To add to the confusion at that
moment, a cloud passed over the moon and threw the whole scene into
deep obscurity. Blind with terror, which was probably increased by the
din of their own mad flight, the galloping troop came on, and with a
sound like the continuous roar of thunder that for an instant drowned
the yell of dog and man they burst upon the camp, trampling over
packs and skins, and dried meat, etc., in their headlong speed, and
overturning several of the smaller tents. In another moment they swept
out upon the plain beyond, and were soon lost in the darkness of the
night, while the yelping of dogs, as they vainly pursued them, mingled
and gradually died away with the distant thunder of their retreat.
This was a _stampede_, one of the most extraordinary scenes that can
be witnessed in the western wilderness.
"Lend a hand, Henri," shouted Joe, who was struggling with a powerful
horse. "Wot's comed over yer brains, man? This brute'll git off if you
don't look sharp."
Dick and Henri both answered to the summons, and they succeeded in
throwing the struggling animal on its side and holding it down
until its excitement was somewhat abated.
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