"I'm very sorry."
"Sorry be hanged! What good will that do me? Perhaps I shall die, or lose my leg; anyway, I know I sha'n't be able to sit down in comfort for a week."
"I apologize. It—it sha'n't occur again," replied Twinkle. "I don't know how it happened. This is a horrid old gun. I never shot with such a funny gun before."
"It's my opinion you're afraid, sir," shouted the captain. "Why don't you load up?"
"I distinctly refuse to do so, sir," retorted Twinkle; "and after the injurious language you have used to me, sir, I shall retire from this shoot and leave you to kill the buffalo yourself."
Saying this, he ran away and hid himself behind a neighboring tree.
The captain looked after him contemptuously.
Meanwhile the bull was getting nearer, and it was necessary to do something to check his progress.
Taking a steady aim, Captain Cannon discharged his piece, and was surprised to see the animal remain unharmed.
Loading up, he fired again and again, but the beast did not fall, though he grew enraged, and uttering a defiant snort, charged.