The roaring, fighting circle of infuriated buffaloes, rushing upon each other with lowered heads, lolling tongues, distended, blazing eyes, and cruel, pointed horns; in the center of the immense ring the man and the two horses; at the side the wild mustang and his double load rising in the air; and the mixed band of half-crazy pursuers charging down upon the whole, weapons flashing bright in the afternoon sunlight.
A yell of triumph rang out from the lips of the wonderful colored rider as his gallant horse cleared the ring, and in a moment he was dashing swiftly away through the shallow water of the stream.
The current touched the breast of the brave horse and then he struck out with powerful strokes for the opposite shore.
Pomp slipped from his back, leaving Ralph in the saddle.
The darkey swam closely by the side of the horse, keeping an easy hold of the reins.
The horse swam steadily onward, and in a few moments the opposite shore was reached.
Then the darkey hopped again into the saddle, and with a shout cantered away.
Meanwhile the red and white band of pursuers rushed down upon the crazed beasts, and their rifles told the death of more than one.
With exultant yells and cries they dashed among the beasts, firing right and left in the full glory of slaughter, and at last the animals began to recognize the fact that a common enemy was destroying them.
Then they ceased to fight among themselves, and turned to meet the band.