- end_line
- 8010
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7935
- text
- The action over, the heavy artillery came up, in the person of the Long
Doctor with the blunderbuss.
“Where are they?” he cried, out of breath.
“A mile or two h’off, by this time,” replied the Cockney. “Lord, Paul I
you ought to’ve sent an ’ailstone into that little black ’un.”
While excusing my want of skill, as well as I could, Zeke, rushing
forward, suddenly exclaimed, “Creation! what are you ’bout there,
Peter?”
Peter, incensed at our ill luck, and ignorantly imputing it to the
cowardice of our native auxiliaries, was bringing his piece to bear
upon his trembling squire—the musket-carrier—now descending a tree.
Pulling trigger, the bullet went high over his head; and, hopping to
the ground, bellowing like a calf, the fellow ran away as fast as his
heels could carry him. The rest followed us, after this, with fear and
trembling.
After forming our line of march anew, we went on for several hours
without catching a glimpse of the game; the reports of the muskets
having been heard at a great distance. At last, we mounted a craggy
height, to obtain a wide view of the country. Prom this place, we
beheld three cattle quietly browsing in a green opening of a wood
below; the trees shutting them in all round.
A general re-examination of the muskets now took place, followed by a
hasty lunch from the calabashes: we then started. As we descended the
mountainside the cattle were in plain sight until we entered the
forest, when we lost sight of them for a moment; but only to see them
again, as we crept close up to the spot where they grazed.
They were a bull, a cow, and a calf. The cow was lying down in the
shade, by the edge of the wood; the calf, sprawling out before her in
the grass, licking her lips; while old Taurus himself stood close by,
casting a paternal glance at this domestic little scene, and conjugally
elevating his nose in the air.
“Now then,” said Zeke, in a whisper, “let’s take the poor creeturs
while they are huddled together. Crawl along, b’ys; crawl along. Fire
together, mind; and not till I say the word.”
We crept up to the very edge of the open ground, and knelt behind a
clump of bushes; resting our levelled barrels among the branches. The
slight rustling was heard. Taurus turned round, dropped his head to the
ground, and sent forth a low, sullen bellow; then snuffed the air. The
cow rose on her foreknees, pitched forward alarmedly, and stood upon
her legs; while the calf, with ears pricked, got right underneath her.
All three were now grouped, and in an instant would be off.
“I take the bull,” cried our leader; “fire!”
The calf fell like a clod; its dam uttered a cry, and thrust her head
into the thicket; but she turned, and came moaning up to the lifeless
calf, going round and round it, snuffing fiercely with her bleeding
nostrils. A crashing in the wood, and a loud roar, announced the flying
bull.
Soon, another shot was fired, and the cow fell. Leaving some of the
natives to look after the dead cattle, the rest of us hurried on after
the bull; his dreadful bellowing guiding us to the spot where he lay.
Wounded in the shoulder, in his fright and agony he had bounded into
the wood; but when we came up to him, he had sunk to the earth in a
green hollow, thrusting his black muzzle into a pool of his own blood,
and tossing it over his hide in clots.
The Yankee brought his piece to a rest; and, the next instant, the wild
brute sprang into the air, and with his forelegs crouching under him,
fell dead.
Our island friends were now in high spirits; all courage and alacrity.
Old Tonoi thought nothing of taking poor Taurus himself by the horns,
and peering into his glazed eyes.
- title
- Chunk 2