looked as though he had been through a corn shredder, and
yet he was still brave and noble, and as we got near to him he said:

[Illustration: The Buffaloes Licked Pa's Bald Head--Pa Began to
Pray.]

"Got any trailing dogs?"

"What you want trailing dogs for?" asked the ranchman. "What you
want is a bath. Have any luck this morning buffaloing?"

"Well I guess yes," said pa, as he dropped the peck measure, and
got out a revolver and asked for more cartridges. "I put twelve
bullets into that bull's carcass when he was charging on me, and
how he carried them away is more than I know. Get me some dogs and
a Winchester rifle and I will follow him till he drops in his
tracks. That bull is my meat, you hear me?" and Pa bent over and
looked at his chewed clothes.

"You don't mean to tell me the bull charged on you and didn't kill
you?" said the ranchman, winking at the hired man. "How did you
keep from being gored?"

"Well it takes a pretty smart animal to get the best of me," said
pa, looking wise. "You see, when the bull came over the hill I
gave him a couple of shots, one in the eye and another in the
chest, but he came on, with his other eye flashing fire, and the
hair on his head and on his hump sticking up like a porcupine, and
the whole herd followed, bellowing and fairly shaking the earth,
but I kept my nerve. I shot the bull full of lead, and he tottered