As I turned again, the five bullocks shot by like a blast, making the air eddy in their wake.
The Yankee now burst into view, and saluted them in flank.

Whereupon, the fierce little bull with the tufted forehead flirted his long tail over his buttocks; kicked out with his hind feet, and shot forward a full length.

It was nothing but a graze; and, in an instant, they were out of sight, the thicket into which they broke rocking overhead, and marking their progress.
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.