But the terror of the smitten creature was too brief to affect the rest, even though several were quite close to her at the time she gave the snort and rolled over on the ground. A cow grazing near did raise her head for a moment and look at her fallen friend as though she hardly understood it. She seemed to meditate plunging into the rest of the drove with head down and with tidings of the disaster, but she must have concluded that since the other cow was dead, it wasn't worth while to make any fuss over it; for she dropped her head and resumed her grazing as though she had no further interest in the matter.
Even when Fred ran out, and, stooping down, began cutting a large slice from the shoulder of the victim, none of the others paid any attention to him. Close behind him came Terry, who was so desirous of examining the prize, that he postponed starting the fire.
"Terry, how will that do for a shot?" asked Fred, with some pride, as he plied his knife.
"Where did ye land the shot?"
"Right there, behind the fore leg; you can see the hole where it entered."
Terry turned his head to one side, closed an eye and surveyed it as though he was measuring the height of a wall: then he shook his head.
"What's the matter with you?" asked the impatient Fred.
"Ye are a sixteenth of an inch too far forward, be the token of which the ball wint through the upper part of the heart: whin ye kill a buffalo coow ye should always sind the ball through the lower instead of the upper part of the heart. Ye surprise me so much that I am graved with ye, me own Fred."
The latter laughed.
"I suppose it would have done as well had I sent the bullet through her brain; but that takes the finest kind of marksmanship."