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 down and carrying a portion of it home, we reached the border of the marsh, and emerged upon the plain. There we suddenly found ourselves face to face with the herd which we sought—a herd of buffaloes. They looked up, and stared at us inquisitively, but without moving. Jack would have fired, but I checked him. “Back to the thicket,” I said, “and keep back the dogs.” We began to retreat, but before we were again under cover, the dogs joined us; and, in spite of our shouts and efforts to restrain them, they dashed forwards, and seized a buffalo calf. This was a signal to the whole herd to attack us. They bellowed loudly, pawed the ground, and tore it up with their horns, and then dashed madly towards us. We had not time to step behind a rock before the leader was upon us. So close was he that my gun was useless. I drew a pistol and fired. He fell dead at my feet. His fall checked the advance of the rest. They halted, snuffed the air, turned tail and galloped off across the plain. They were gone, but the dogs still held gallantly to the calf. They dragged and tussled with him, but with their utmost efforts could not bring him to the ground. How to assist them without shooting the poor beast, I knew not; and this I was unwilling to do, for I hoped that, if we could but capture him alive, we might in time manage to tame him, and use him as a beast of burden. Jack's clever little head, however, suddenly devised a plan for their aid, and with his usual promptitude he at once put it into execution. He unwound the lasso, which was coiled round his body, and, as the young bull flung up his heels, he cast it, and caught him by his hind legs. The noose drew tight, and in a twinkling the beast was upon the ground. We fastened the other end of the cord round a stout bamboo, called off the dogs, and the animal was at our mercy. “Now we have got him,” said Jack, as he looked at the poor beast, lying panting on the ground, “what are we to do with him?”