Crusoe would have sprung forward in an instant, but
his master's finger imposed silence and caution. Trembling
with eagerness, Dick sank flat down in the grass,
cocked both barrels of his piece, and, resting it on his
left hand with his left elbow on the ground, he waited
until the animal should present its side. In a few
seconds it moved; Dick's eye glanced along the barrel,
but it trembled--his wonted steadiness of aim was
gone. He fired, and the buffalo sprang off in terror.
With a groan of despair he fired again---almost recklessly--and