The big hands toyed with him; and then, secure in the double knots, the calf lay still, sticking out his tongue and rolling his eyes, with the coat of the hunter tucked under his bonds to keep away the wolves.
The race had but begun; the horse had but warmed to his work; the hunter had but tasted of sweet triumph.

Another hopeful of a buffalo mother, negligent in danger, truant from his brothers, stumbled and fell in the enmeshing loop.

The hunter's vest, slipped over the calf's neck, served as danger signal to the wolves.

Before the lumbering buffalo missed their loss, another red and black baby kicked helplessly on the grass and sent up vain, weak calls, and at last lay still, with the hunter's boot tied to his cords.
Four! Jones counted them aloud, add in his mind, and kept on.

Fast, hard work, covering upward of fifteen miles, had begun to tell on herd, horse and man, and all slowed down to the call for strength.