The colonel looked up, and his eyes were fastened on the dying struggles of the buffalo. The immense beast, with blood streaming from his mouth and nostrils, with his tongue protruding, and with the glaze of death already over his bloodshot eyes, seemed determined to “stand his ground” to the last. As his huge body swayed from side to side, and he found himself unable to move a pace from where he stood, he planted his feet further apart, and stamped impatiently, as if angry at the growing weakness which it was impossible to shake off. But all his efforts were in vain. Death was too strong to be resisted by his brute force and tenacious will. The purple blood gushed in a torrent from his mouth, the huge carcass swayed more heavily from side to side, the failing limbs shook in a final effort to support the weight of the body, the whole frame was seized with a convulsive quiver, and at last, with a choking gasp, the animal fell over, dead, silent, motionless and stiff.
Colonel Wilder gave a sigh of relief when the struggle was over, and looked around for his preserver. Dove-eye was standing near him, with a rifle in her hand, watching the death of the buffalo with great composure. As she was about to walk away, the colonel rose and addressed her:
“I am much obliged to you, sir. You have saved my life. Ah! is it you, young woman? Excuse me; my eyes are a little dim. Did you really fire that shot?”
Dove-eye smiled and nodded.
“You must be an excellent marksman—woman, I mean. The variation of an inch would have left strength enough in that animal to kill me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not at all. I am bruised and scratched a little, perhaps; but that is of no consequence.”
The position of Colonel Wilder was a little embarrassing. This girl, whom he had treated so lightly and contemptuously, had saved his life, and he, man of the world as he was, did not know what to say to her. Fortunately his son rode up at that moment, and, in response to his inquiries, the colonel related the adventure.
“Yes, it was very well done,” he said, as he noticed the admiring and affectionate glance that Fred bent upon Dove-eye. “She is accustomed to that sort of thing, no doubt; but that does not lessen my obligation. I have some presents that I brought for the Arapahoes, and I will give her something.”