Майн Рид
The Hunters' Feast: Conversations Around the Camp Fire
Chapter Thirty Three.
Trailing the Buffalo
After a breakfast of fresh buffalo-meat we took the road in high spirits. The long-expected sport would soon come off. Every step showed us “buffalo sign” – tracks, wallows, fresh ordure. None of the animals were yet in sight, but the prairie was filled with undulations, and no doubt “a gang” would be found in some of the valleys.
A few miles farther on, and we came suddenly upon a “buffalo road,” traversing the prairie nearly at right angles to our own direction. This caused a halt and consultation. Should we follow the road? By all means thought every one. The tracks were fresh – the road a large one – thousands of buffaloes must have passed over it; where were they now? They might be a hundred miles off, for when these animals get upon one of those regular roads they often journey at great speed, and it is difficult to overtake them. When merely browsing over the prairie the case is different. Then they travel only a few miles a day, and a hunter trailing them soon comes up with the gang.
Ike and Redwood were consulted as to what was best to be done. They had both closely examined the trail, bending down to the ground, and carefully noting every symptom that would give them a clue to the condition of the herd – its numbers – its time of passing – the rate of its speed, etcetera.
“Thur’s a good grist o’ ’em,” said Ike, “leastways a kupple o’ thousand in the gang – thur’s bulls, cows, yearlins, an’ young calf too, so we’ll have a choice o’ meat – either beef or veal. Kin we do better than foller ’em up? Eh, Mark?”
“Wal! I don’t think we can, ole boss,” replied Redwood. “They passed hyur yesterday, jest about noon – that is the thick o’ the drove passed then.”
“How do you tell that?” inquired several.
“Oh, that’s easy made out,” replied the guide, evidently regarding the question as a very simple one; “you see most o’ these hyur tracks is a day old, an’ yet thur not two.”
“And why not?”
“Why how could they be two,” asked the guide in astonishment, “when it rained yesterday before sun-up? Thur made since the rain, yu’ll admit that?”
We now remembered the rain, and acknowledged the truth of this reasoning. The animals must have passed since it rained; but why not immediately after, in the early morning? How could Redwood tell that it was the hour of noon? How?
“Easy enough, comrades,” replied he.
“Any greenhorn mout do that,” added Ike. The rest, however, were puzzled and waited the explanation.
“I tells this a way,” continued the guide. “Ef the buffler had passed by hyur, immediately after the rain, thar tracks wud a sunk deeper, and thar wud a been more mud on the trail. As thar ain’t no great slobber about, ye see, I make my kalklations that the ground must a been well dried afore they kim along, and after such a wet, it could not a been afore noon at the least – so that’s how I know the buffler passed at that hour.”
We were all interested in this craft of our guides, for without consulting each other they had both arrived at the same conclusion by the same process of mental logic. They had also determined several other points about the buffalo – such as that they had not all gone together, but in a straggling herd; that some had passed more rapidly than the rest; that no hunters were after them; and that it was probable they were not bound upon any distant migration, but only in search of water; and the direction they had taken rendered this likely enough. Indeed most of the great buffalo roads lead to watering-places, and they have often been the means of conducting the thirsty traveller to the welcome rivulet or spring, when otherwise he might have perished upon the dry plain. Whether the buffalo are guided by some instinct towards water, is a question not satisfactorily solved. Certain it is, that their water paths often lead in the most direct route to streams and ponds, of the existence of which they could have known nothing previously. It is certain that many of the lower animals possess either an “instinct,” or a much keener sense in these matters than man himself. Long before the thirsty traveller suspects the propinquity of water, his sagacious mule, by her joyful hinney, and suddenly altered bearing, warns him of its presence.
We now reasoned that if the buffalo had been making to some watering-place, merely for the purpose of drinking and cooling their flanks, they would, of course, make a delay there, and so give us a chance of coming up. They had a day the start of us, it is true, but we should do our best to overhaul them. The guides assured us we were likely to have good sport before we came up with the great gang. There were straggling groups they had no doubt, some perhaps not over thirsty, that had hung in the rear. In high hopes, then, we turned our heads to the trail, and travelled briskly forward.
We had not gone many hundred yards when a very singular scene was presented to our eyes. We had gained the crest of a ridge, and were looking down into a little valley through which ran the trail. At the bottom of the valley a cloud of dust was constantly rising upward, and very slowly moving away, as the day was quite calm. Although there had been rain a little over thirty hours before, the ground was already parched and dry as pepper. But what caused the dust to rise? Not the wind – there was none. Some animal then, or likely more than one!
At first we could perceive no creature within the cloud, so dun and thick was it; but after a little a wolf dashed out, ran round a bit, and then rushed in again, and then another and another, all of them with open jaws, glaring eyes, manes erect, and tails switching about in a violent and angry manner. Now and then we could only see part of their bodies, or their bushy tails flung upward, but we could hear by their yelping barks that they were engaged in a fierce contest either among themselves, or with some other enemy. It was not among themselves, as Ike and Redwood both affirmed.
“An old bull ’s the game,” said they; and without waiting a moment, the two trappers galloped forward, followed closely by the rest of our party. We were soon in the bottom of the little valley. Ike already cracking away at the wolves – his peculiar enemies. Several others, led away by the excitement, also emptied their pieces at these worthless creatures, slaying a number of them, while the rest, nearly a dozen in all, took to their heels, and scampered off over the ridges.
The dust gradually began to float off, and through the thinner cloud that remained we now saw what the wolves had been at. Standing in the centre of a ring, formed by its own turnings and struggles, was the huge form of a buffalo-bull. Its shape indicated that it was a very old one, lank, lean, and covered with long hair, raggled and torn into tufts. Its colour was that of the white dust, but red blood was streaming freshly down its hind flanks, and from its nose and mouth. The cartilage of the nose was torn to pieces by the fierce enemies it had so lately encountered, and on observing it more closely we saw that its eyes were pulled out of their sockets, exhibiting a fearful spectacle. The tail was eaten off by repeated wrenches, and the hind-quarters were sadly mangled. Spite of all this mutilation, the old bull still kept his feet, and his prowess had been proved, for no less than five wolves lay around, that he had “rubbed out” previous to our arrival. He was a terrible and melancholy spectacle – that old bull, and all agreed it would be better to relieve him by a well-aimed bullet. This was instantly fired at him; and the animal, after rocking about a while on his spread legs, fell gently to the earth.
Of course he had proved himself too tough to be eatable by anything but prairie-wolves, and we were about to leave him as he lay. Ike, however, had no idea of gratifying these sneaking creatures at so cheap a rate. He was determined they should not have their dinner so easily, so taking out his knife he extracted the bladder, and some of the smaller intestines from the buffalo. These he inflated in a trice, and then rigging up a sapling over the body, he hung them upon it, so that the slightest breeze kept them in motion. This, as we had been already assured, was the best mode of keeping wolves at a distance from any object, and the hunter, when wolves are near, often avails himself of it to protect the venison or buffalo-meat which he is obliged to leave behind him.
The guide having rigged his “scare wolf,” mounted his old mare, and again joined us, muttering his satisfaction as he rode along.
We had not travelled much farther when our attention was attracted by noises in front, and again from a ridge we beheld a scene still more interesting than that we had just witnessed. As before, the actors were buffalo and wolves, but this time there was very little dust, as the contest was carried on upon the green turf – and we could see distinctly the manoeuvres of the animals.
There were three buffaloes – a cow, her calf, and a large bull that was acting as their champion and protector. A pack of wolves had gathered around them, in which there were some of the larger species, and these kept up a continuous attack, the object of which was to destroy the calf, and its mother if possible. This the bull was using all his endeavours to prevent, and with considerable success too, as already several of the wolves were down, and howling with pain. But what rendered the result doubtful was that fresh wolves were constantly galloping up to the spot, and the buffaloes would likely have to yield in time. It was quite amusing to see the efforts made by the cunning brutes, to separate the calf front its protector. Sometimes they would get it a few feet to the one side, and fling it to the ground; but before they could do it any great injury, the active bull, and the cow as well, would rush forward upon them, scattering the cowardly creatures like a flock of birds. Then the calf would place itself between the old ones, and would thus remain for a while, until the wolves, having arranged some new plan, would recommence the attack, and drive it forth again. Once the position was strikingly in favour of the buffaloes. This position, which seemed in the hurry of the conflict to turn up accidentally, was in fact the result of design, for the old ones every now and then endeavoured to renew it, but were hindered by the stupidity of the calf. The latter was placed between them in such a way that the heads of the bull and cow were in opposite directions, and thus both flanks were guarded. In this way the buffaloes might have held their ground, but the silly calf when closely menaced by the wolves foolishly started out, rendering it necessary for its protectors to assume a new attitude of defence.
It was altogether a singular conflict, a touching picture of parental fondness. The end of it was easily guessed. The wolves would tire out the old ones, and get hold of the calf of course, although they might spend a long time about it. But the great herd was distant, and there was no hope for the cow to get her offspring back to its protection. It would certainly be destroyed.
Notwithstanding our sympathy for the little family thus assailed, we were not the less anxious to do for them just what the wolves wished to do – kill and eat them. With this intent we all put spur to our horses, and galloped right forward to the spot.
Not one of the animals – neither wolves nor buffaloes – took any notice of us until we were within a few yards of them. The wolves then scampered off, but already the cracking rifles and shot-guns were heard above the shouts of the charging cavalcade, and both the cow and calf were seen sinking to the earth. Not so the huge bull. With glaring eyeballs he glanced around upon his new assailants, and then, as if aware that farther strife was useless, he stretched forth his neck, and breaking through the line of horsemen, went off in full flight.
A fresh touch of the spur, with a wrench of the bridle-rein, brought our horses round, and set their heads after him, and then followed as fine a piece of chasing as I remember to have taken part in. The whole eight of us swept over the plain in pursuit, but as we had all emptied our pieces on first charging up, there was not one ready to deliver a shot even should we overtake the game. In the quick gallop no one thought of re-loading. Our pistols, however, were still charged, and these were grasped and held in readiness.
It was one of the most exciting chases. There before us galloped the great game, under full view, with neither brake nor bush to interrupt the pleasure of our wild race. The bull proved to be one of the fastest of his kind – for there is a considerable difference in this respect. He led us nearly half-a-mile across the ridges before even the best of our horses could come up, and then just as we were closing in upon him, before a shot had been fired, he was seen to give a sudden lounge forward and tumble over upon the ground.
Some of us fancied he had only missed his footing and stumbled; but no motion could be perceived as we rode forward, and on coming up he was found to be quite dead! A rifle-bullet had done the work – one that had been fired in the first volley; and his strong fast run was only the last spasmodic effort of his life.
One or two remained by the dead bull to get his hide and the “tit-bits” of his meat, while the rest rode back to recover the more precious cow and calf. What was our chagrin to find that the rascally wolves had been before us! Of the tender calf, not a morsel remained beyond a few tufts of hairy skin, and the cow was so badly torn and mutilated that she was not worth cutting up! Even the tongue, that most delicate bit, had been appropriated by the sneaking thieves, and eaten out to the very root.
As soon as they had observed us coming back, they had taken to their heels, each carrying a large piece with him, and we could now see them out upon the prairie devouring the meat before our very eyes. Ike was loud in his anathemas, and but that the creatures were too cunning for him, would have taken his revenge upon the spot. They kept off, however, beyond range of either rifle or double-barrel, and Ike was forced to nurse his wrath for some other occasion.
We now went back to the bull, where we encamped for the night. The latter, tough as he was, furnished us an excellent supper from his tongue, hump-ribs, boudins, and marrow bones, and we all lay down to sleep and dream of the sports of to-morrow.
Chapter Thirty Four.
Approaching the Buffalo
Next morning, just as we were preparing to resume our journey, a gang of buffalo appeared upon one of the swells, at the distance of a mile or a mile and a half from our camp. There were about a dozen of them, and, as our guides asserted, they were all cows. This was just what we wanted, as the flesh of the cows is much more delicate than that of the bulls, and were eager to lay in a stock of it.
A hurried consultation was held, in which it was debated as to the best manner of making an attack upon the herd. Some advised that we should ride boldly forward, and overtake the cows by sheer swiftness, but this mode was objected to by others. The cows are at times very shy. They might break off long before we were near, and give our horses such a gallop as would render them useless for the rest of the day. Besides, our animals were in no condition for such exercise. Our stock of corn had run out, and the grass feeding and hard travelling had reduced most of them to skeletons. A hard gallop was therefore to be avoided if possible.
Among those who counselled a different course wore the guides Ike and Redwood. These men thought it would be much better to try the cows by “approaching,” that is, by endeavouring to creep up, and get a shot when near enough. The ground was favourable enough for it, as there were here and there little clumps of cactus plants and bushes of the wild sage (artemisia), behind which a hunter might easily conceal himself. The trappers farther alleged that the herd would not be likely to make off at the first shot, unless the hunter discovered himself. On the contrary, one after another might fall, and not frighten the rest, so long as these did not get to leeward, and detect the presence of their enemy by the scent.
The wind was in our favour, and this was a most important consideration. Had it been otherwise the game would have “winded” us at a mile’s distance, as they can recognise the smell of man, and frequently comprehend the danger of being near such an enemy. Indeed, it is on their great power of scent that the buffalo most commonly rely for warning. The eyes of these creatures, and particularly the bulls, are so covered with the shaggy hair hanging over them, that individuals are often seen quite blinded by it, and a hunter, if he keep silent enough, may walk up and lay his hand upon them, without having been previously noticed. This, however, can only occur when the hunter travels against the wind. Otherwise he finds the buffalo as shy and difficult to approach as most game, and many along spoil of crouching and crawling has been made to no purpose – a single sniff of the approaching enemy proving enough to startle the game, and send it off in wild flight.
Ike and his brother trapper urged that if the approach should prove unsuccessful there would still be time to “run” the herd, as those who did not attempt the former method might keep in their saddles, and be ready to gallop forward.
All this was feasible enough; and it was therefore decided that the “approach” should have a trial. The trappers had already prepared themselves for this sort of thing. They were evidently desirous of giving us an exhibition of their hunter-prowess, and we were ready to witness it. We had noticed them busied with a pair of large wolf-skins, which they had taken off the animals entire, with the heads, ears, tails, etcetera, remaining upon the skins. The purpose of these was to enable the hunters to disguise themselves as wolves, and thus crawl within shooting distance of the buffalo herd.
Strange to say this is quite possible. Although no creature is a greater enemy to the buffalo than the wolf, the former, as already stated, permits the latter to approach quite close to him without making any attempt to chase him off, or without exhibiting the slightest symptoms of fear on his own account. The buffalo cannot prevent the wolf from prowling close about him, as the latter is sufficiently active, and can easily get out of the way when pursued by the bulls – on the other hand, the buffaloes, unless when separated from the herd, or in some way disabled, have no fear of the wolf. Under ordinary circumstances they seem wholly to disregard his presence. The consequence is, that a wolf-skin is a favourite disguise of the Indians for approaching the buffalo, and our trappers, Ike and Redwood, had often practised this ruse. We were likely then to see sport.
Both were soon equipped in their white wolf-skins, their heads being enveloped with the skins of the wolves’ heads, and the remainder tied with thongs, so as to cover their backs and sides. At best the skins formed but a scanty covering to the bodies of the trappers; but, as we have already remarked, the buffalo has not a very keen sense of sight, and so long as the decoys kept to leeward, they would not be closely scrutinised.
When fairly in their new dress, the hunters parted from the company, leaving their horses at the camp. The rest of us sat in our saddles, ready to gallop forward, in case the ruse did not succeed, and make that kind of a hunt called “running.” Of course the trappers went as far as was safe, walking in an upright attitude; but long before they had got within shot, we saw both of them stoop down and scramble along in a crouching way, and then at length they knelt upon the ground, and proceeded upon their hands and knees.
It required a good long time to enable them to get near enough; and we on horseback, although watching every manoeuvre with interest, were beginning to get impatient. The buffalo, however, quietly browsing along the sward, seemed to be utterly unconscious of the dangerous foe that was approaching them, and at intervals one or another would fling itself to the earth in play, and after kicking and wallowing a few seconds, start to its feet again. They were all cows, with one exception – a bull – who seemed to be the guardian and leader. Even at a mile’s distance, we could recognise the shape and size of the latter, as completely differing from all the rest. The bull seemed to be more active than any, moving around the flock, and apparently watching over their safety.
As the decoys approached, we thought that the bull seemed to take notice of them. He had moved out to that side of the herd, and seemed for a moment to scrutinise them as they drew near. But for a moment, however, for he turned apparently satisfied, and was soon close in to the gang.
Ike and Redwood had at length got so close, that we were expecting every moment to see the flash of their pieces. They were not so close, however, as we in the distance fancied them to be.
Just at this moment we perceived another buffalo – a large bull – running up behind them. He had just made his appearance over a ridge, and was now on his way to join the herd. The decoys were directly in his way, and these did not appear to see him until he had run almost between them, so intent were they on watching the others. His intrusion, however, evidently disconcerted them, spoiling their plans, while in the very act of being carried into execution. They were, no doubt, a little startled by the apparition of such a huge shaggy animal coming so suddenly on them, for both started to their feet as if alarmed. Their pieces blazed at the same time, and the intruder was seen rolling over upon the plain.
But the ruse was over. The bull that guarded the herd was witness to this odd encounter, and bellowing a loud alarm to his companions, set off at a lumbering gallop. All the rest followed as fast as their legs would carry them.
Fortunately they ran, not directly from us, but in a line that inclined to our left. By taking a diagonal course we might yet head them, and without another word our whole party put to the spur, and sprang off over the prairie.
It cost us a five-mile gallop before any of us came within shooting distance; and only four of us did get so near – the naturalist, Besançon, the Kentuckian, and myself. Our horses were well blown, but after a good deal of encouragement we got them side by side with the flying game.
Each one chose his own, and then delivered his shot at his best convenience. The consequence was, that four of the cows were strewed out along the path, and rewarded us for our hard gallop. The rest, on account of saving our horses, were suffered to make their escape.
As we had now plenty of excellent meat, it was resolved to encamp again, and remain for some time on that spot, until we had rested our horses after their long journey, when we should make a fresh search for the buffalo, and have another “run” or two out of them.
