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.
Our ship knives were at once in request; and, skinning the cattle, we hung them high up by cords of bark from the boughs of a tree.
Withdrawing into a covert, we there waited for the wild hogs; which, according to Zeke, would soon make their appearance, lured by the smell of blood.

Presently we heard them coming, in two or three different directions; and, in a moment, they were tearing the offal to pieces.
As only one shot at these creatures could be relied on, we intended firing simultaneously; but, somehow or other, the doctor's piece went off by itself, and one of the hogs dropped.

The others then breaking into the thicket, the rest of us sprang after them; resolved to have another shot at all hazards.
The Cockney darted among some bushes; and, a few moments after, we heard the report of his musket, followed by a quick cry.