This job kept them till noonday, when they camped under some trees for their midday meal, hobbling the horses.

Then they rested for an hour or two, packed the hides on the pack-horses (and heavily loaded they were, each hide weighing about a hundredweight), and went back to the hunt, scanning the plain carefully.
They were all riding together through a belt of timber, the blacks and the Chinaman being well up with the pack-horses, when suddenly the blacks burst out with great excitement.
"Buff'lo! Buff'lo!" Sure enough, a huge blue bull--a regular old patriarch, that had evidently been hunted out of a herd, and was camping by himself in the timber--made a rush out of some thick trees, and set off towards a dense jungle, that could be seen half a mile or so away.

Hugh and Considine were nearest him, each with his rifle ready, and started after him together, full gallop through the timber.

The old man was evidently anxious to make up for his morning's failure, and to take Hugh down a peg, for he set a fearful pace through the trees, grazing one and gliding under the boughs of another as only a trained bush-rider can.
Hugh, coming from the mountains, was no duffer in timbered country either, and the two of them went at a merry pace for a while.

The bull was puzzled by having two pursuers, and often in swerving from one or the other would hit a tree with his huge horns, and fairly bounce off it.