suggested Dick.

"Oh, he'll die soon enough," replied Joe, tucking up his sleeves and
drawing his long hunting-knife.

Dick, however, was not satisfied with this way of looking at it.
Saying that he would be back in a few minutes, he reloaded his rifle,
and calling Crusoe to his side, walked quickly after the wounded bull,
which was now hid from view in a hollow of the plain.

In a few minutes he came in sight of it, and ran forward with his
rifle in readiness.

"Down, Crusoe," he whispered; "wait for me here."

Crusoe crouched in the grass instantly, and Dick advanced. As he came
on, the bull observed him, and turned round bellowing with rage and
pain to receive him. The aspect of the brute on a near view was so
terrible that Dick involuntarily stopped too, and gazed with a mingled
feeling of wonder and awe, while it bristled with passion, and
blood-streaked foam dropped from its open jaws, and its eyes glared
furiously. Seeing that Dick did not advance, the bull charged him with
a terrific roar; but the youth had firm nerves, and although the rush
of such a savage creature at full speed was calculated to try the
courage of any man, especially one who had never seen a buffalo bull
before, Dick did not lose presence of mind. He remembered the many
stories he had listened to of this very thing that was now happening;
so, crushing down his excitement as well as he could, he cocked his
rifle and awaited the charge. He knew that it was of no use to fire at
the head of the advancing foe, as the thickness of the skull, together