ardently, separated from his companions, and in trying to rejoin them
became bewildered. Hour after hour he sought in vain for some mark by
which he might thread the intricacy of the forest, the trees of which
were so thick that it was but seldom that he could catch a glimpse of
the sun; and not being much accustomed to the woodman's life, he could
not find his way as one of them would have done, by noticing which
side of the trees was most covered with moss or lichen. Several times
he started in alarm, for he fancied that he could see the glancing
eyeballs of some lurking Indian, and he often raised his gun to his
shoulder, prepared to sell his life as dearly as he could.

Toward sunset the trees lessened and grew thinner, and by and by he
found himself upon the outskirts of an immense prairie, covered with
long grass, and here and there with patches of low trees and brushwood.
A river ran through this extensive tract, and toward it Sullivan
directed his lagging footsteps. He was both faint and weary, not having
eaten anything since the morning. On the bank of the river there were
many bushes, therefore Sullivan approached with caution, having placed
his rifle at half-cock, to be in readiness against any danger that might
present itself. He was yet some yards from its brink, when a rustling in
the underwood made him pause, and the next instant out rushed an
enormous buffalo. These animals usually roam through the prairies in
immense herds, sometimes amounting to many thousands in number; but
occasionally they are met with singly, having been separated from the
main body either by some accident, or by the Indians, who show the most
wonderful dexterity in hunting these formidable creatures. The buffalo
paused for a moment, and then lowering his enormous head, rushed forward
toward the intruder. Sullivan took aim; but the beast was too near to
enable him to do so with that calmness and certainty which would have
insured success, and though slightly wounded, it still came on with