A second shot came, this time from the right and quite close at hand.

His horse was staggering, swaying--then down he crashed, Hobbs swinging clear barely in time to escape being pinioned to the ground.

A stream of blood was pouring from the side of the poor beast.

Aghast at this unheard of wantonness, the little interpreter knew not which way to turn, but stood there dazed until a third shot brought him to his senses.

The bullet kicked up the dust near his feet.