“What, talking still!” exclaimed the doctor, yawning:  he had just awoke.  “What the devil can you have babbled about during the whole blessed night?  Why, ’tis morn.”

Saying this, he took up his watch, looked at it, applied it to his ear, to see if it had not stopped, and exclaimed:—­

“By jingo, but I am only half-past one.”  The parson drew out his also, and repeated the same, “half-past one.”

At that moment the breeze freshened, and I heard the distant and muffled noise, which in the West announces either an earthquake, or an “estampede” of herds of wild cattle and other animals.  Our horses, too, were aware of some danger, for now they were positively mad, struggling to break the lassoes and escape.

“Up!” I cried, “up!  Gabriel, Roche, up!—­up, strangers, quick! saddle your beasts! run for your lives! the prairie is on fire, and the buffaloes are upon us.”

They all started upon their feet, but not a word was exchanged; each felt the danger of his position; speed was our only resource, if it was not already too late.  In a minute our horses were saddled, in another we were madly galloping across the prairie, the bridles upon the necks of our steeds, allowing them to follow their instinct.  Such had been our hurry, that all our blankets were left behind, except that of Gabriel; the lawyers had never thought of their saddle-bags, and the parson had forgotten his holsters and his rifle.

For an hour we dashed on with undiminished speed, when we felt the earth trembling behind us, and soon afterwards the distant bellowing, mixed up with the roaring and sharper cries of other animals, were borne down unto our ears.  The atmosphere grew oppressive and heavy, while the flames, swifter than the wind, appeared raging upon the horizon.  The fleeter game of all kinds now shot past us like arrows; deer were bounding over the ground, in company with wolves and panthers; droves of elks and antelopes passed swifter than a dream; then a solitary horse or a huge buffalo-bull.  From our intense anxiety, although our horses strained every nerve, we almost appeared to stand still.

The atmosphere rapidly became more dense, the heat more oppressive, the roars sounded louder and louder in our ears; now and then they were mingled with terrific howls and shrill sounds, so unearthly that even our horses would stop their mad career and tremble, as if they considered them supernatural; but it was only for a second, and they dashed on.

A noble stag passed close to us, his strength was exhausted; three minutes afterwards, we passed him—­dead.  But soon, with the rushing noise of a whirlwind, the mass of heavier and less speedy animals closed upon us:  buffaloes and wild horses, all mixed together, an immense dark body, miles in front, miles in depth; on they came, trampling and dashing through every obstacle.  This phalanx was but two miles from us.  Our horses were nearly exhausted; we gave ourselves up for lost; a few minutes more, and we should be crushed to atoms.