“After them! Quick!” shrieked Dig, and spurred his black.
He almost seemed to lift Poke off his feet when he struck the tiny spurs into him. Poke shot ahead of the bay and Dig rose in his stirrups.
He was not as good a shot as Chet; but he could not miss that brown body which was squarely in front of him. It was not the big bull Dig aimed at; that animal, in fact, he did not see. But the creature in line with his rifle barrel was big enough.
It was a well grown bull, and when it raised its head and swung the huge bulk of it to see the charging boys, it looked formidable. The chums were tearing down upon the buffaloes, losing sight of the elks entirely. The nobler game made them ignore the other.
Naturally, the elks charging down into the herd startled the buffaloes before the boys themselves were seen. Most of the buffaloes sprang away on a gallop.
But the young bull for which Dig aimed was too late. The boy fitted the heavy rifle-stock snugly into his shoulder—no chance for it to kick him this time—and fired almost over Poke’s ears at the huge brown body.
He made a bull’s-eye. The thud of the bullet could be heard plainly by both furiously riding boys. But he did not hit a vital spot, having aimed too far back of the foreleg.
Chet had checked Hero, riding to give to his chum all the room he needed. The other buffaloes scuttled across the plain so rapidly that the bay—heavily loaded as he was—could scarcely have caught them and so given his master a shot. The stricken bull did not follow his mates, but wheeled on Poke and, head down, charged him and his rider.
“Look out, Dig!” shouted Chet in superfluous warning.
The buffalo moved with surprising swiftness; but even at that Dig could have easily got in a second shot had the mechanism of his rifle not fouled for a second.