Making a circuit to keep out of sight, we rode toward them until we ascended a hill within a furlong of them, beyond which nothing intervened that could possibly screen us from their view. Some were scattered grazing over a green declivity, while the rest were crowded more densely together in the wide hollow below. At length, a mile in advance, we saw a band of bulls. There was some foundation for such an apprehension, for the ground was none of the best for a race, and grew worse continually as we proceeded indeed it soon became desperately bad, consisting of abrupt hills and deep hollows, cut by frequent ravines not easy to pa.s.s. "There's no wood about here to make a litter for the wounded man I have an idea that one of us will need something of the sort before the day is over."
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