Billy had sat down beneath the shade of the most hospitable
of the bushes a hundred feet or so away, and was taking off her
veil and gloves. I was carrying to her the lunch box. When I was
about halfway from where the boys were drinking at the stream's
edge to where she sat, a buffalo bull thrust his head from the
bushes just the other side of her. His head was thrust up and
forward, as he reached after some of the higher tender leaves on
the bushes. So close was he that I could see plainly the drops
glistening on his moist black nose. As for Billy, peacefully
unwinding her long veil, she seemed fairly under the beast.
I had no weapon, and any moment might bring some word or some
noise that would catch the animal's attention. Fortunately, for
the moment, every one, relaxed in the first reaction after the
long morning, was keeping silence. If the buffalo should look
down, he could not fail to see Billy; and if he saw her, he would
indubitably kill her.
As has been explained, snapping the fingers does not seem to
reach the attention of wild animals. Therefore I snapped mine as
vigorously as I knew how. Billy heard, looked toward me, turned
in the direction of my gaze, and slowly sank prone against the
ground.
