The next moment I heard B.'s voice.

He could hardly speak for want of breath, having run the whole way to my rescue, but I could understand that he had only one barrel loaded, and no bullets left.

I dared not turn my face from the buffalo, but I cautioned B.to reserve his fire till the bull should be close into me, and then to aim at the head.
The words were hardly uttered, when, with the concentrated rage of the last twenty minutes, he rushed straight at me! It was the work of an instant.

B.fired without effect.

The horns were lowered, their points were on either side of me, and the muzzle of the gun barely touched his forehead when I pulled the trigger, and three shillings' worth of small change rattled into his hard head.