The three heavy Hammonds rang out with a crash. Charlie's bull went down, as did two more, and a wild bellow of fury went up from the entire herd. Instantly the second barrels streamed forth their deadly cordite, and a mass of kicking, struggling animals lay below them, while from the Masai streamed forth spears and arrows.
"Hope that holds them," said Schoverling, as they reloaded rapidly. The gun-bearers, as good gun-bearers should, had not yet fired but stood waiting till the last extremity.
"By golly!" yelled Jack, bringing up his rifle hurriedly. Instead of being intimidated, the shots and powder-reek seemed to render the herd more furious yet. Loud snortings, swishing tails and pawing hoofs testified to their rage, and the bodies of the slain were trampled into a bloody mass as the herd swept on.
Down went the foremost again, impeding those behind, and Schoverling nodded to the Indians as he reloaded. The 30-30s spoke out, each of the old soldiers wasting not a shot, but firing the five cartridges in his magazine slowly and methodically. The scene below was terrible, and the wild yells of the Masai rose high over the snorting and bellowing. But great as was the slaughter, the immense herd poured up bodily, until they were but thirty yards down the hill, the bodies of the killed trampled underfoot, those behind pressing the others forward in mad rage.
Now there was no let-up. Charlie loaded and fired as fast as he was able, as did Jack and the rest. Another volley from the Indians helped, and from the wagon von Hofe scattered bird-shot wildly, but Gholab's little rifle-ball picked more than one bull neatly through the eye to the brain.
From above the Masai streamed down their arrows into the backs of the giant brutes, until the wounded ones turned and lashed out at their fellows. Shot after shot poured down into the crowded mass of buffalo, and a moment later Charlie knew that the fight was all but won. Those in the van had gone down, those behind were rearing and trampling, fighting each other in desperate confusion, forgetting what lay ahead.
Suddenly a yell of terror from behind startled Charlie and he saw Jack whirl with a shout. While they had been fighting the foe in front, a single bull, led perhaps by some instinct, had quietly ascended the hill from the rear and was shaking his head angrily at Bakari and his remaining five men.
As the boys turned, the Masai unhesitatingly poured spears at him, and with a bellow of pain he charged them. They faced him gallantly, but before Jack or Charlie could fire, one went high in air and another was trampled under foot. Gholab leaped from the wagon with his small rifle, and sprang forward; but, taking a desperate chance, Jack had fired at the brute's shoulder. The buffalo turned and made for the little party, and as he did so Gholab Singh shot him through the eye at ten yards.
A yell of delight from Guru drew Charlie back to the front. Here it was evident that the buffalo were retiring, only two solitary bulls charging through the bloody, tangled mass of hoofs and horns. One of these the General dropped, and Amir Ali attended to the other. A moment later the herd drew away, sullenly and fighting among themselves still, to the shelter of the reeds, where the snortings and bellowings gradually died away in the distance.
With the lifting of the terrific strain, Charlie staggered and caught Schoverling's arm, while Jack sank down beside him with drawn face. Guru and his comrades leaped down the hill to kill the wounded, kicking bulls.