protectors. To try them out Jones darted close and threw his
lasso. It struck a cow. With activity incredible in such a huge
beast, she lunged at him. Kentuck, expecting just such a move,
wheeled to safety. This duel, ineffectual on both sides, kept up
for a while, and all the time, man and herd were jogging rapidly
to the north.

Jones could not let well enough alone; he acknowledged this even
as he swore he must have five. Emboldened by his marvelous luck,
and yielding headlong to the passion within, he threw caution to
the winds. A lame old cow with a red calf caught his eye; in he
spurred his willing horse and slung his rope. It stung the haunch
of the mother. The mad grunt she vented was no quicker than the
velocity with which she plunged and reared. Jones had but time to
swing his leg over the saddle when the hoofs beat down. Kentuck
rolled on the plain, flinging his rider from him. The infuriated
buffalo lowered her head for the fatal charge on the horse, when
the plainsman, jerking out his heavy Colts, shot her dead in her
tracks.

Kentuck got to his feet unhurt, and stood his ground, quivering
but ready, showing his steadfast courage. He showed more, for his
ears lay back, and his eyes had the gleam of the animal that
strikes back.

The calf ran round its mother. Jones lassoed it, and tied it
down, being compelled to cut a piece from his lasso, as the cords
on the saddle had given out. He left his other boot with baby
number five. The still heaving, smoking body of the victim called
forth the stern, intrepid hunter's pity for a moment. Spill of