“Have we got everything, do you think?” asked Roger, ready to mount his horse, which could hardly be held in hand, such was its terror at the approach of this thundering mass of heavy beasts; it was as though the intelligent animal understood the danger that threatened, and wanted to be on the move.
“No matter, we cannot afford to waste another minute hunting for anything now. Our lives are worth more than any other thing we possess. Get in your saddle, quick, Roger; and be careful not to let the horse throw you, or all is lost!”
The warning came not any too soon, for the fretful animal was jumping and tugging at the bridle, trying the best it could to break away, so that it might dash off, and keep a space between that approaching peril and its fleet heels.
But Roger was a pretty fair horseman, and succeeded in mounting, in spite of all the prancing of the steed. Then away they went, helter-skelter, allowing the horses to have their heads.
They tried to keep as near to one another as possible. The one danger Dick feared more than anything else was that one of the horses in this headlong gallop might set his feet in a marmot hole, and bring about disaster; for a spill in the face of the oncoming army of buffaloes would mean that the unfortunate one must be trampled under foot, whether his horse had a leg broken or not.
When first seen the buffaloes had apparently been simply galloping steadily on, as though bent on changing their feeding grounds; but Dick, turning to look with each flash, believed he could detect a change coming over their method of advance.
This was doubtless caused by the increasing crashes of thunder that sounded high above the steady roar of those tens of thousands of hoofs beating upon the hard turf. In other words, as the oncoming storm began to overtake the drove, their gallop was fast degenerating into a stampede, when every animal would put on its best spurt, and, wild with fear, seek to outrun the threatening gale.
Already the horses were doing their best, and it was folly to dig one’s heels into the sides of his straining beast, as Roger was doing, seeking to obtain a little more speed.
And now both boys began to look anxiously ahead. Despite the best efforts of the horses it seemed as though the leading buffaloes were much closer to them than when the mad race had started; and this meant that, unless they could manage to gain the shelter of the trees, they were going to have a hard time of it avoiding disaster.
Already Roger had learned that his comrade had guessed true when he said that the indistinct line along the horizon, seen just at sunset, must be trees. They had become much more distinct by now, so that, although but a fleeting glimpse of them could be obtained when the lightning flashed, still that was enough.