Heedless of all else, the wounded buffalo charged with lusty
bellow, goring that quivering mass with unabated fury, though its
life was clearly leaking out through those ghastly cuts and
slashes.

A brief pause, then Professor Featherwit swiftly reloaded his
gun, sending another shell across the stream, this time more as a
boon than as punishment.

Smitten fairly in the forehead, the bull dropped as though
beneath a bolt of lightning, life going out without so much as a
single struggle or a single pang.

"Twas better thus," declared the professor, as Waldo gave a
little ejaculation of dismay. "He must have bled to death in a
short time, and this was true mercy. Besides, buffalo meat is
very good eating, and the day may come when we shall need all we
can get. Who knows?"

After the animals were inspected, and due comment made upon the
awfully sure work wrought by the dynamite gun, the professor
suggested that, while he was completing repairs upon the
aeromotor, the brothers should secure a supply of fish and of
flesh, cooking sufficient to provide for several meals, for there
was no telling just when they would have an equal chance.

"Just as soon as we can put all in readiness," he continued, "I
am going to leave this spot. My first wish is to thoroughly test
the aerostat, to make certain it has received no serious injury.