<br/><SPAN name="XX" id="XX"></SPAN>
<hr style="width: 35%;" /><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</SPAN></span>
<br/>
<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
<h2>THE BUFFALO HUNT.</h2>
<br/>
<p>The season was now approaching when the buffalo might be expected in
great numbers on the plains to the east of us, and all the warriors were
making the most extensive preparations for their grand buffalo hunt.
They had commenced the ceremonies by song and dance, as related in
another chapter and now, all that was necessary for their happiness, was
the actual appearance of the bison. Young men left the camp daily, and
scoured the plains, in order to get the first news of the herd; while
others stationed themselves on high cliffs, and patiently waited the
advent of the animal which was to supply them with food. A signal had
been agreed upon, by which the village would be made aware of their
presence as soon as the buffaloes were in sight. Meantime every Indian
was busy, perfecting his arrangements for the chase. Lances were
re-pointed, arrows headed, and bows strengthened. Most of the time,
however, was employed in training the ponies, and the plain, in front of
the village, presented a very animated appearance as the horsemen were
seen dashing along at top-speed, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</SPAN></span>throwing the lasso, or rushing
headlong up to another warrior, who personated a buffalo, go through the
motions of killing him.</p>
<p>These scenes fired me with a desire to see a buffalo hunt myself. I had
reason to believe that the Indians trusted me sufficiently to permit of
my accompanying them on the proposed expedition; but then I was totally
inexperienced in the management of their weapons, on horseback, never
having had occasion to use them when mounted. However, I determined to
try, and going to Wakometkla, I made known my wishes. He concurred quite
heartily in my request, and even went so far as to offer me his own
lance and spear.</p>
<p>My determination to accompany the party was soon bruited throughout the
village, and many were the offers of advice, ponies, and implements of
the chase, that were pressed upon my acceptance. After some hesitation,
I selected a pony that pleased me, and arming myself with bow and
arrows, sallied forth upon the plain, to put into practice the hints
that had been imparted to me in regard to hunting the bison. At first it
was up-hill work; and my frantic endeavors to slide on the side of my
pony and discharge an arrow from under his neck, caused my instructors
no small merriment. After a severe fall—and I had many such—I would be
assisted to my horse's back, and recommended to try it again, with as
much coolness as if I had merely fallen from a chair.</p>
<div class="fig">> <SPAN href="images/imagep172.jpg"> <ANTIMG border="0" src="images/imagep172.jpg" alt="The Buffalo Hunt" /></SPAN><br/> <p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">The Buffalo Hunt.</p> </div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</SPAN></span>Notwithstanding the many times I came to grief, in trying to wield bow
and arrow, or lance, effectively, I kept persistently at it, and in a
week's time I had become a somewhat expert horseman, and could shoot an
arrow with tolerable accuracy. I now wished that buffaloes would be
signaled as approaching, quite as ardently as did the warriors; but in
the meantime, I persevered in my practice. One day it occurred to me
that I should like to learn to throw a lasso, and procuring one, I
coiled it, mounted, and went in search of some object on which to
practice.</p>
<p>By some mutability of fortune a donkey had strayed into our midst, and
had remained with the tribe for many years. No one used him, but all
considered it their privilege to tease the poor brute. He bore it calmly
and with that fortitude which is a distinguishing trait of his species.
Deeming him a very fair substitute for a buffalo, I gave my pony a sharp
cut with the whip, and dropping the rein upon his neck, prepared to
throw my lasso. My imaginary buffalo seemed to suspect that all was not
right, and acting on his suspicions galloped away, not giving my
intentions the benefit of the doubt. It was of no avail, however, for,
urging my pony to increased speed, I was soon within range, and twirling
the lasso around my head a few times, I launched it, directing its
course, as nearly as my poor skill would permit, towards the donkey's
head. It would certainly never have touched him had he pursued the
direction in which he was <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</SPAN></span>then running. But his evil genius prompted
him to turn, and, shaping his course so as to bisect mine at right
angles, he raised his head, and, giving vent to one of those musical
neighs (?) for which the animal is somewhat famous, rushed on in his mad
career. Poor brute! the noose hovered over him a moment, like some bird
of prey about to swoop down on its quarry, and then settled over his
head and shoulders.</p>
<p>My horse knew more about the use of this peculiar instrument than I did,
for no sooner had the lasso passed over the head of the donkey than he
planted his fore feet firmly on the ground, and braced his body to
receive the shock. Before I was aware of anything, I felt a sharp jerk
at my wrist, and the next moment I was sailing over my pony's head, and
going in the direction of the donkey at a more rapid rate than was
agreeable. I soon struck <i>terra firma</i>, but with such force that the
concussion caused me to see more stars than I thought the heavens were
capable of containing. To add to my embarrassment, the rope had become
fastened to my wrist, and in such a manner that I could not free myself.
The donkey, recovering from the effect of the shock, started off at
headlong speed, dragging my unresisting body after him. How long this
novel journey would have continued I have no means of knowing had I not
fortunately been rescued by a passing Indian. After an examination, I
found that with the exception of torn clothing and a few scratches, I
had come out of this adventure <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</SPAN></span>safely; but I never more had any desire
to run amuck with donkeys.</p>
<p>The Indian then explained the manner in which the lasso was thrown, and
under his tuition I became somewhat of an adept in this novel art.</p>
<p>The following morning the signal from the look-out announced that the
herd were in sight. Then there was hurrying to and fro, and mounting in
hot haste. Indians were seen rushing frantically in every direction,
whilst the greatest hilarity prevailed among the squaws. Horses were
driven into the corrals and quickly bridled, whilst those who were to
participate in the hunt were busy divesting themselves of all
superfluous clothing. Some armed themselves with a bow and a few arrows,
while some depended on their lances only. The party had by this time
assembled in front of the lodge where Tonsaroyoo was standing giving the
final instructions to the band. These were very brief, and as soon as he
had finished speaking, everything being in readiness, we mounted our
horses, and were off like a whirlwind.</p>
<p>Passing up the valley, we climbed the cliff and defiling around the
narrow ledge of rock that guards this entrance to the village soon
deployed upon the prairie. As we swept along over the plain on this
glorious morning, my spirits rose, the blood coursed through my veins in
rapid pulsations, and I felt as if I could have destroyed a herd of
buffaloes single handed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</SPAN></span>In these latitudes such is the purity of the air that one seems to be
taking in at every breath the veritable elixir of life. Your spirits are
buoyant, and all nature seems to be smiling and gay. As we journeyed we
overtook the scouts, who were returning to apprise us of the exact
location of the buffaloes. After making their report, they would wheel
into line and sweep on with the main party.</p>
<p>We had proceeded about twenty miles, when we reached a level stretch of
prairie, and directly in front of us, at a distance of perhaps two miles
was the herd quietly grazing, all unsuspecting of the danger that
menaced them. It was not a very large drove, and they kept quite close
together. It was the season when the buffaloes wandered off from the
main herd in small bands, and the prairies were dotted for miles with
these black clumps, like great dark splashes on a carpet of emerald.</p>
<p>The plan of attack was decided upon in council, and the band disposed of
in a manner that would insure the complete and speedy extermination of
our game. We were about to make a "surround." The warriors were divided
into two columns, and taking opposite directions, drew themselves
gradually around the herd at a distance of about a mile from them. We
continued to deploy in this manner until a complete circle was formed,
and then, at a given signal, we closed in upon the buffaloes, keeping
our impatient steeds at a moderate pace.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</SPAN></span>The herd soon got the wind of the advancing enemy, and fled in a body in
the greatest confusion. To the point where the buffaloes were aiming to
cross our line, the horsemen were gathering, and forming in column,
brandishing their weapons and yelling in the most frightful manner, by
which means they turned the surging mass. Seeing themselves baffled at
this point, they would rush off in an opposite direction, when they
would again be met by a formidable column and again repulsed in utter
confusion.</p>
<p>By this time we had closed in from all directions, forming a continuous
line that circled the throng like the deadly coils of the cobra. The
buffaloes had become completely demoralized, and were eddying about in a
crowded and confused mass, hooking and climbing upon each other. Now was
the time for the onslaught. Tonsaroyoo, by whose side I was riding,
placed the whistle to his lips and gave the signal.</p>
<p>Then followed a scene of wild confusion. The horsemen dashed upon the
bewildered buffaloes with the rapidity of thought almost, using their
lances and arrows with murderous effect. In the turmoil a cloud of dust
was raised which in part obscured those of the band who did not
immediately surround me. The excitement was intense, and soon all became
one immense blur, in which hunters and buffaloes were indiscriminately
mixed. I could see the Indians galloping their horses around the animals
and driving the <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</SPAN></span>whizzing arrows or long lances to the hearts of their
quarry.</p>
<p>My own pony had penetrated deep into the herd, and with a sagacity that
a long experience alone could develop, was laying his course straight
for an enormous bull that was flanking the herd. Had <i>my</i> taste been
consulted, I should certainly have declined to try conclusions with such
an ugly customer, but there was no avoiding the encounter, and,
selecting an arrow, I drew my bow and waited a favorable opportunity to
send it through the bison.</p>
<p>On sped the pony, and in a few moments I was brushing the flank of the
buffalo. At a glance I saw that he had been wounded and was tearing
along, blind with rage. I let fly my arrow, which pierced his neck; its
effect was only to increase his fury, and, wheeling round, he rushed on
me with savage desperation. Never can I forget the sight as he bore down
upon us. Infuriated with the wounds already received, his shaggy mane
partly concealing his bloodshot eyes, and bellowing fiercely, he poised
his head for a final charge. My horse tried to escape the onslaught, but
we had penetrated into the main body, and our actions were impeded by
the other buffaloes.</p>
<p>I concluded our destruction was inevitable, but, as a last resort, I had
determined to leap to the ground and trust to luck to lead me out of
this dilemma.</p>
<p>As I was preparing to dismount, a lance lying upon the ground caught my
sight, and I instantly changed <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</SPAN></span>my resolution. If I could secure the
weapon all might yet be well. I determined to make the effort at all
hazards, and throwing my arm into the sling that depended from the neck
of my horse, I swung lightly from his back, and hanging by my arm and
foot, made ready to grasp the lance with my disengaged arm. As we swept
along I succeeded in securing it, and reseating myself, prepared to
drive it deep into the side of the enraged bull. I had scarcely time to
poise the instrument when the buffalo charged down on us like a
whirlwind. Bracing myself as best I might, I pulled violently on the
reins and threw my steed to one side, just in time to prevent his being
gored to death, at the same time lunging out savagely at the animal. The
shock was terrific, and I went whirling from my horse's back some twenty
feet on the prairie. I was not so violently stunned but that I was quite
conscious of the danger I was in of being trampled to death by the hoofs
of the demoralized herd, and, gathered myself up in time to grasp the
trailing lasso that was fastened to my pony, I was dragged far out on
the prairie. Badly bruised, my skin lacerated and in places bleeding
profusely, I felt in no condition to take an active part in the hunt; in
fact, my unique experience was, I thought, sufficient to last me a
lifetime.</p>
<p>Riding at some distance from the <i>melee</i>, I had an excellent opportunity
to watch the progress of the hunt. The slaughter continued with unabated
fury. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</SPAN></span>The plain was covered with dead and dying buffaloes. Horses could
be seen galloping over the prairie riderless, while their dismounted
masters were flying for their lives before the infuriated animals.</p>
<p>Sometimes the serried ranks would open, and the blinded horsemen, so
intent upon their prey, amidst the cloud of dust, were wedged and hemmed
in among the crowding beasts, over whose backs they were obliged to leap
for security, leaving their horses to the fate that might await them in
the results of this wild and desperate war. Many were the bulls that
turned upon their assailants and met them with desperate resistance, and
many were the warriors who were dismounted and saved themselves by their
superior running abilities. Some who were closely pursued by the bulls,
would wheel suddenly around, and snatching the part of buffalo robe from
their waists, throw it over the horns and eyes of the maddened animal,
and darting to one side, drive an arrow or lance to its heart. Others
dashed upon the prairies by the side of the affrighted beasts which had
escaped from the throng, and closely escorting them for a few rods,
bring down their hearts' blood in streams, and their huge carcasses upon
the enameled turf.</p>
<p>In this way the whole herd was quickly annihilated. The war lasted
perhaps thirty minutes, and resulted in the total destruction of the
herd, which, with all their strength and fury, were doomed, like every
beast, to fall before the destroying hands of mighty man.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</SPAN></span>I had sat trembling on my horse, and witnessed this extraordinary scene.
Although I was not enabled to accurately estimate the number killed, yet
I am sure several hundred buffaloes fell in this grand onslaught.</p>
<p>After the battle the scene was curious in the extreme. The hunters were
moving about amongst the dead and dying animals, leading their horses by
their halters, and claiming their slain by the private marks upon their
arrows, which they were drawing from the wounds in the animals' sides. A
few buffaloes had the good fortune to escape, but, after wandering off
on the prairie for some distance, they would stop, stand a while,
looking around as if in bewilderment, then turning, as if bent on their
own destruction, return to the herd, and mingling with the dead and
dying, swell the slaughtered throng with their numbers.</p>
<p>When all was finished, and the arrows had been claimed, a general
council was held, the Indians seated in a circle on the ground. The pipe
was passed around, each taking a few whiffs.</p>
<p>It was decided to wait until the women and extra horses had arrived from
the village, a messenger having been despatched to announce our success,
and ordering the squaws to repair to the scene and carry the meat back
to the encampment. We had not long to wait for the arrival of the women.
They came in a gang, making the air resound with their yells of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</SPAN></span>rejoicing. As soon as they came up they were greeted with disdainful
silence by the assembled warriors, and Tonsaroyoo having issued a few
directions, they fell to, and were soon deep in the mysteries of
skinning and butchering the slain buffaloes. As soon as a carcass had
been cut up, it was placed in a covering of the hide, and placed upon
the pony's back waiting to receive it. As soon as one was loaded, an
Indian boy took him in charge and led him off to the village.</p>
<p>The plain presented a peculiar appearance, dotted here and there with
the ladened ponies returning to camp, and reminded me of a caravan on
the African deserts, such as I had seen in books, more than anything
else. The warriors soon rode off, leaving the women, boys, and dogs to
complete the destruction.</p>
<p>Our entry into the village was an ovation. Conquering heroes could not
have been more graciously received. During the next week all hands were
engaged in a round of feasting and dancing, interspersed with religious
ceremonies, and in some instances of self-immolation. No scene of the
long series in which I was both actor and spectator, gave me a better
idea of the Indian character. To fight, slaughter, prey, eat and sleep,
seemed to be the end and aim of their existence. To outnumber his
adversary and hence consummate his destruction, was the highest
possibility of prowess. To bear torture without evincing the <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</SPAN></span>weakness
of physical suffering was the sublimity of courage; and when death
finally overtook them, to go to the happy hunting grounds well supplied
with the implements that would produce carnal enjoyment was the
apotheosis of enjoyment!</p>
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