Again Dick sprang to one side, but in doing so a tuft of grass or a stone caught his foot, and he fell heavily to the ground.
Up to this point Crusoe's admirable training had nailed him to the spot where he had been left, although the twitching of every fibre in his body and a low continuous whine showed how gladly he would have hailed permission to join in the combat; but the instant he saw his master down, and the buffalo turning to charge again, he sprang forward with a roar that would have done credit to his bovine enemy, and seized him by the nose.

So vigorous was the rush that he well-nigh pulled the bull down on its side.

One toss of its head, however, sent Crusoe high into the air; but it accomplished this feat at the expense of its nose, which was torn and lacerated by the dog's teeth.
Scarcely had Crusoe touched the ground, which he did with a sounding thump, than he sprang up and flew at his adversary again.

This time, however, he adopted the plan of barking furiously and biting by rapid yet terrible snaps as he found opportunity, thus keeping the bull entirely engrossed, and affording Dick an opportunity of reloading his rifle, which he was not slow to do.

Dick then stepped close up, and while the two combatants were roaring in each other's faces, he shot the buffalo through the heart.