Paul was filled with curiosity, but he knew too much to do more just now than breathe.
A huge bull buffalo stumbled from the trees to the edge of the lake, where the moonlight had just begun to come.

He was a monstrous fellow, and Paul knew by his snapping red eyes that he was in no good humor.

Henry shook his head to indicate that he was no game for them, and Paul understood.
Whatever they killed they intended to put in the canoe, and then clean and dress it on the island.

The angry monster, an outcast from some herd, was safe.
The buffalo drank, puffing and snorting between drinks, and then stamped his way back into the forest.

Still the hunters waited in ambush.