"Remember," said Austin, as he urged his brothers to quicken their
pace on their way to the cottage, "we have hardly heard any thing yet
about buffaloes and grizzly bears, and other animals which are found
in the woods and the prairie. Let us make haste, that we may have a
long visit."
Brian and Basil, being almost as anxious as their brother to hear all
about bears and buffaloes, quickened their pace as he desired them, so
that no long period had passed, before the hunter, at the request of
his youthful visitors, was engaged in giving them the desired account.
"The different animals and birds," said he, "that inhabit different
countries, for the most part, roam backwards and forwards, according
to the season. Creatures that love the cold move northerly in summer,
and such as delight in a warmer clime move southerly in winter. It is,
however, principally to obtain food that they remove from one place to
another. I must here explain to you, that though I have, in common
with most others who use these terms, spoken of buffaloes, the animal
which abounds in the prairie is not properly the buffalo, but the
bison."
_Austin._ But if they are bisons, why are they called buffaloes?
_Hunter._ That is a question that I hardly know how to answer. From
whatever cause it may have arisen, certain it is, that the name of
buffalo has become common; and, that being the case, it is used in
conversation, and oftentimes in books, as being more easily
understood.
_Brian._ What is the difference between a buffalo and a bison?
_Hunter._ A buffalo is an animal that abounds in Africa, resembling an
ugly cow, with a body long, but rather low; and very long horns. But
the bison stands very high in front, has a hump on the back part of
the neck covered with long hair, short horns, and a profusion of long
shaggy hair hanging from its head, neck and fore-legs.
_Austin._ Then a bison must look much fiercer than a buffalo.
_Hunter._ He does; and from the circumstance of his fore-parts
standing high, while he carries his head low, he always appears as if
he were about to run at you. Bisons abound throughout the whole of
our country, west of the Mississippi; but the reckless way in which
they are slaughtered, and the spread of civilization, are likely, in a
few years, greatly to decrease their numbers. Indians suffer much from
hunger, but they are very reckless when buffaloes are plentiful. On
one occasion, when among the Minatarees, I witnessed a grand capture
of buffaloes. It was effected by different parties taking different
directions, and then gradually approaching each other. The herd was
thus hemmed in on all sides, and the slaughter was terrible. The
unerring rifle, the sharp spear and the winged arrow, had full employ;
and so many buffaloes were slain, that, after taking their tongues and
other choice parts of them for food, hundreds of carcasses were left
for the prairie-wolves to devour. Thus it is that man, whether savage
or civilized, too often becomes prodigal of the abundance he enjoys,
and knows not the value of what he possesses, till taught by that want
into which his thoughtless waste has plunged him.
_Austin._ Ay, they will soon kill all the buffaloes, if they go on in
that manner.
_Hunter._ At present, they are to be seen on the prairie in droves of
many thousands; the woods, also, abound with them; and often, in the
heat of summer, an incalculable number of heads and horns are visible
in the rivers, the bodies of the bisons being under the water.
_Brian._ What, because they are so hot?
_Hunter._ Yes: the bison suffers very much from heat. It is no
uncommon thing to see a bison bull lay himself down in a puddle of
water, and turn himself round and round in it, till he has half
covered his body with mud. The puddle hole which he thus makes is
called a bison or buffalo wallow. The puddle cools him while he is in
it, and when he quits it, the mud plastered on his sides defends him
from the burning heat of the sun.
_Basil._ What a figure a bison bull must cut, with his shaggy hair and
his sides plastered all over with mud!
_Hunter._ Bears are often most formidable foes to the hunter; but
there is this striking difference between the common bear and the
grizzly bear, that while the former eats mostly vegetables, and will
do his best to get out of your way, the latter eats nothing but flesh,
and is almost sure to attack you. Hunters and Indians make it a rule
never to fire at a grizzly bear, unless in self-defence: except in
cases when they have a strong party, or can fire from a tree; for,
when he is wounded, his fury knows no bounds.
_Austin._ How can you escape from a grizzly bear, if he is so very
terrible?
_Hunter._ The common bear can climb a tree, as I have already told
you; but the grizzly bear is no climber. If you have time to get up
into a tree, you are safe: if not, you must reserve your shot till the
animal is near you, that you may take a steady aim. You must then
fight it out in the best way you can. Grizzly bears are sometimes of a
very large size, measuring from nine to ten feet in length. It was on
the Upper Missouri that I was once chased by one of these terrible
fellows, and a narrow escape I had.
_Austin._ How was it? Tell us all about it.
_Hunter._ I had just fired off my rifle at a bird which I took for an
eagle, little thinking how soon my wasted bullet (for I did not strike
the bird) would be wanted in defence of my life. The crack of my piece
reverberated from the green-topped bluffs that rose from the prairie;
and I suppose it was this that brought Sir Bruin upon me. He came on
with huge strides, and I had nothing but a hunting-knife to use in my
defence, my discharged rifle being of no use. There was no tree near,
so throwing down my piece, I drew my knife as a forlorn hope in my
extremity.
_Austin._ A hunting-knife against a grizzly bear!
_Hunter._ When the huge monster was within a few yards of me, to my
amazement, I heard the report of two rifles, and in the same instant
my tremendous foe fell, with two bullets in his head. This timely
assistance was rendered me by two of our party, who, having followed
my track, were near me when I thought myself alone.
_Austin._ Never was any one in greater danger.
_Hunter._ I will tell you an anecdote that I have read of a common
bear. A boy, about eight years old, was sent by his mother into the
woods, to bring home the old cow. At the distance of somewhat more
than half a mile, he found her, attended by some young cattle. He
began to drive them home; but had not proceeded far, when a bear came
out of the bushes, and seemed disposed to make his acquaintance.
The boy did not like his company; so he jumped upon the old cow's
back, and held on by her horns. She set out at full speed, and the
bear after her. The young cattle, lifting their tails in the air,
brought up the rear. Thus they proceeded, the young ones behind
frequently coming up to the bear, and giving him a thrust with their
horns.
This compelled him to turn round, and thus the old cow, with her brave
rider, got somewhat in advance. The bear then galloped on, and,
approaching the boy, attempted to seize him; but the old cow cantered
along, and finally brought the boy to his mother's house in safety.
The bear, thinking he should not be welcome there, after approaching
the house, turned about and scampered back to the forest. Sir Bruin
knew when he was well off; a whole skin is the best covering a bear
can have; but, if he ventures among mankind, he is likely enough to
have it stripped over his ears.
_Austin._ That was a capital old cow, for she saved the boy's life.
_Basil._ But the young cattle helped her, for they pushed the bear
with their horns.
_Brian._ Please to tell us about wild horses.
_Hunter._ The hordes or bands of wild horses that abound in some of
the prairies, are supposed to be the offspring of Spanish horses,
brought to Mexico by Europeans. They are extremely shy, keen in their
sight and swift of foot, so that to come up with them, except by
surprise, is no easy thing. I have seen them in great numbers from
the brow of a bluff, or have peeped at them cautiously from a ravine.
_Austin._ What kind of horses are they; and of what colour?
_Hunter._ Some of them are fine animals, but in general they are
otherwise. Stunted and coarse in appearance, they are of various
colours--bay, chestnut, cream, gray, piebald, white and black, with
long tails, fetlocks, top-knots and manes.
_Brian._ How do they catch them?
_Hunter._ In different ways. Sometimes a well-mounted Indian, armed
with his rifle, follows a horde of horses, until he can get a fair
shot at the best among them. He aims at the top of the neck, and if he
succeeds in striking the high gristle there, it stuns the animal for
the moment, when he falls to the ground without being injured. This is
called _creasing_ a horse: but a bad marksman would kill, and not
crease, the noble animal he seeks to subdue.
_Austin._ What other way is there of catching wild horses? for that
seems to be a very bad one.
_Basil._ It is a very bad way. They ought not to shoot them.
_Hunter._ They are much more commonly taken with the _lasso_; which is
a thong at least a dozen yards long, ending in a noose. This the
Indians throw, at full gallop, over the head of the flying steed they
wish to secure. Rarely do they miss their aim. When a horse is thus
caught, the hunter leaps from his steed, and lets out the lasso
gradually, choking his captive till he is obliged to stop: he then
contrives to hopple or tie his fore-legs; to fasten the lasso round
his lower jaw; to breathe in his nostrils, and to lead him home.
_Austin._ Breathe in his nostrils! Why, what does he do that for?
_Hunter._ Because experience has taught him, that it does much towards
rendering his captive more manageable. It is said, that if an Indian
breathes freely into the nostrils of a wild young buffalo on the
prairie, the creature will follow him with all the gentleness and
docility of a lamb.
_Brian._ Well! that does appear strange!
_Hunter._ There is one animal, which the Indians, the hunters and
trappers sometimes meet with, that I have not mentioned. It is the
cougar, or panther, or American lion; for it goes by all these names.
Now and then it is to be seen in the thick forests of the west; but,
being a sad coward, it is not so much dreaded as it otherwise would
be.
_Brian._ I should not much like to meet a cougar.
_Hunter._ The common wolf of America is as big as a Newfoundland dog,
and a sulky, savage-looking animal he is. So long as he can feed in
solitary places he prefers to do so, but, when hunger-pressed, he
attacks the fold; after which, Mr. Grizzly-skin loses no time in
getting to a place of shelter, for he knows that should he outrun the
stanch hounds that will soon be on his track, yet will a rifle ball
outrun him.
_Brian._ Yes, yes; Mr. Grizzly-back is very cunning.
_Hunter._ The prairie-wolf is smaller than the common wolf.
Prairie-wolves hunt after deer which they generally overtake; or keep
close to a buffalo herd, feeding on such as die, or on those that are
badly wounded in fighting with one another. The white, black, and
clouded wolves are in the northern parts. There are many kinds of
deer. I told you, that sometimes a deer-hunt took place on a large
scale, by enclosing a circle, and driving the deer into it. In
shooting antelopes, the hunter has only to stick up his ramrod in the
ground in their neighbourhood, and throw over it his handkerchief;
while he, with his rifle ready loaded, lies on the grass near at hand.
The antelopes will soon approach the handkerchief to see what it is,
when the hunter may make them an easy prey. The largest deer is the
moose deer, which is often seven feet high. He is an awkward,
overgrown-looking creature, with broad horns; but, awkward as he is, I
question if any of you could outrun him. Mountain and valley, lake and
river, seem alike to him, for he crosses them all. In the snow, to be
sure, the unwearied and persevering hound will overtake him; but let
him beware of his horns, or he will be flying head over heels in the
air in a twinkling. The moose deer, however, cannot successfully
strive with the hunter's rifle.
_Austin._ Nothing can stand against man.
_Hunter._ And yet what is man opposed to his Maker? His strength is
perfect weakness! In a moment, in a twinkling of an eye, he "changes
his countenance, and sends him away."
_Basil._ What other kinds of deer do Indians catch?
[Illustration: The Wapiti Deer.]
_Hunter._ The elk, with his large branching horns, who would despise a
palace as a dwelling-place. Nothing less than the broad sky above his
head, and the ground of the boundless forest beneath his feet, will
satisfy him. After the elk, come the Virginia, or common deer, the
wapiti deer, the black-tailed deer, and the cariboo. All these are the
prey of the hunter. Their savoury flesh supplies him with food, and
their soft skins are articles of merchandise. The mountain sheep may
often be seen skipping from one ledge to another of the rugged rocks,
and precipitous clayey cliffs of the western wilds, giving life to
the solitary place, and interest to the picturesque beauty of lonely
spots.
_Austin._ You have mentioned all the animals now, I think, that the
hunter chases; for you spoke before about beavers, badgers, foxes,
raccoons, squirrels and some others.
_Basil._ You have never told us, though, how they catch the musk-rat.
I should like to know that.
_Hunter._ Well, then, I will tell you how they take the musk-rat, but
must first speak about the prairie dog. Prairie dogs are a sort of
marmot, but their bark is somewhat like that of a small dog. Rising
from the level prairie, you may sometimes see, for miles together,
small hillocks of a conical form, thrown up by the prairie dogs, which
burrow some eight or ten feet in the ground. On a fine day, myriads of
these dogs, not much unlike so many rats, run about, or sit barking on
the tops of their hillocks. The moment any one approaches them, they
disappear, taking shelter in their burrows.
_Basil._ Oh, the cunning little rogues.
_Hunter._ The musk-rat builds his burrow (which looks like a
hay-stack) of wild rice stalks; so that, while he has a dry lodging, a
hole at the bottom enables him, when he pleases, to pass into the
shallow water beneath his burrow or lodge. In taking a musk-rat, a
person strikes the top of the burrow, and out scampers the tenant
within; but no sooner does he run through his hole into the shallow
water, than he is instantly caught with a spear. Myriads of these
little animals are taken in this manner for their fur.
_Brian._ They must be a good deal like prairie dogs, though one has
his house on the land, and the other in the water.
_Hunter._ These wide prairies, on which roam bisons and horses and
deer innumerable; and these shallow waters, where musk-rats abound,
will probably, in succeeding years, assume another character. White
men will possess them; civilized manners and customs will prevail, and
Christianity spread from the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains; for
the kingdoms of the world, you know, are to become the kingdoms of our
Lord and of his Christ.
_Austin._ You have told us a great deal indeed, to-day, about the
prairies.
_Hunter._ I have already spoken of the prairie fires; I mean the
burning grass set on fire by accident, or purposely, for the double
advantage of obtaining a clearer path and an abundant crop of fresh
grass; but I must relate an adventure of my own, of a kind not likely
to be forgotten. So long as a prairie fire is confined to the high
grounds, there is very little danger from it; for, in such situations,
the grass being short, the fire never becomes large, though the line
of flame is a long one. Birds and beasts retire before it in a very
leisurely manner; but in plains where the grass is long, it is very
different.
_Austin._ I should like to see one of those great, high, round bluffs
on fire. There must be a fine bonfire then.
_Hunter._ There you are mistaken, for as I have already told you, the
grass is short on the bluffs. To be sure, the sight of a bluff on
fire, on a dark night, is very singular; for as you can only see the
curved line of flame, the bluff being hidden by the darkness, so it
seems as though the curved lines of flame were up in the air, or in
the sky.
_Basil._ They must look very beautifully.
_Hunter._ They do: but when a fire takes place in a low bottom of long
grass, sedge and tangled dry plants, more than six feet high; and when
a rushing wind urges on the fiery ruin, flashing like the lightning
and roaring like the thunder; the appearance is not beautiful, but
terrible. I have heard the shrill war-whoop, and the clash of
contending tomahawks in the fight, when no quarter has been given. I
have witnessed the wild burst where Niagara, a river of waters, flings
itself headlong down the Horseshoe Fall; and I have been exposed to
the fury of the hurricane. But none of these are half so terrible as
the flaming ocean of a long-grass prairie-fire.
_Austin._ Oh! it must be terrible.
_Hunter._ The trapper is bold, or he is not fit for his calling; the
hunter is brave, or he could never wage war as he does with danger;
and the Indian from his childhood is familiar with peril: yet the
Indian, the hunter and the trapper tremble, as well they may, at a
prairie-meadow fire. But I must relate my adventure.
_Basil._ I am almost afraid to hear it.
_Austin._ Poh! nonsense! It will never hurt you.
_Hunter._ A party of five of us, well mounted, and having with us our
rifles and lances, were making the best of our way across one of the
low prairie bottoms, where the thick coarse grass and shrubs, even as
we sat on our horses, were often as high as our heads; when we
noticed, every now and then, a flight of prairie hens, or grouse,
rapidly winging their way by us. Two of our party were of the
Blackfoot tribe; their names were Ponokah (elk) and Moeese (wigwam.)
These Indians had struck into a buffalo trail, and we had proceeded
for a couple of hours as fast as the matted grass and wild pea-vines
would allow, when suddenly the wind that was blowing furiously from
the east became northerly, and in a moment, Moeese, snuffing the air,
uttered the words, "Pah kapa," (bad;) and Ponokah, glancing his eyes
northward, added, "Eehcooa pah kaps," (very bad.)
_Austin._ I guess what was the matter.
_Brian._ And so do I.
_Hunter._ In another instant a rush was heard, and Ponokah, who was a
little ahead, cried out, "Eneuh!" (buffalo!) when three bisons came
dashing furiously along another trail towards us. No sooner did they
set eyes on us, than they abruptly turned southward. By this time, we
all understood that, to the north, the prairie was on fire; for the
air smelt strong. Deer, and bisons, and other animals, sprang forward
in different directions from the prairie, and a smoke, not very
distant, like a cloud, was visible.
_Austin._ I hope you set off at full gallop.
_Hunter._ We were quite disposed to urge our horses onward; but the
trail took a turn towards the burning prairie, and we were obliged to
force our way into another, in doing which my horse got his feet
entangled, and he fell, pitching me over his head some yards before
him. I was not hurt by the fall, for the thick herbage protected me;
but the worst of it was, that my rifle, which had been carelessly
slung, fell from my shoulder among the long grass, and being somewhat
confused by my fall, I could not find it.
_Brian._ You ought not to have stopped a moment.
_Hunter._ Perhaps not; but, to a hunter, a rifle is no trifling loss,
and I could not make up my mind to lose mine. Time was precious, for
the smoke rapidly increased; and both Ponokah and Moeese, who knew
more about burning prairies than I did, and were therefore more alive
to our danger, became very impatient. By the time my rifle was found,
and we were ready to proceed, the fire had gained upon us in a
crescent form, so that before and behind we were hemmed in. The only
point clear of the smoke was to the south; but no trail ran that way,
and we feared that, in forcing a road, another accident might occur
like that which had befallen us.
_Austin._ I cannot think what you could do in such a situation.
_Hunter._ Our disaster had come upon us so unexpectedly, and the high
wind had so hurried on the flaming storm, that there seemed to be no
time for a moment's thought. Driven by necessity, we plunged into the
thick grass to the south; but our progress was not equal to that of
the fire, which was now fast approaching, blackening the air with
smoke, and roaring every moment louder and louder. Our destruction
seemed almost certain; when Ponokah, judging, I suppose, by the
comparative thinness of the smoke eastward, that we were not far from
the boundary of the prairie bottom, dashed boldly along a trail in
that direction, in the face of the fire, crying out to us to follow.
With the daring of men in extremity, we put our horses to their speed,
broke through the smoke, fire, grass, and flame, and found ourselves
almost instantly on a patch of ground over which the fire had passed;
but, as the grass had evidently been scanty, we were free from danger.
From a neighbouring bluff, which the smoke had before hidden from our
view, we saw the progress of the flame--a spectacle that filled me
with amazement. The danger we had escaped seemed increased by the
sight of the fearful conflagration, and I know not whether terror,
amazement, or thankfulness most occupied my mind.
_Austin._ That was, indeed, a narrow escape.
_Hunter._ As we stood on the bluff, dismounted, to gaze on the flying
flames--which appeared in the distance like a huge fiery snake of some
miles in length, writhing in torture--my wonder increased. The
spectacle was fearful and sublime, and the conflagration nearest to us
resembled the breakers of the deep that dash on a rocky shore, only
formed of fire, roaring and destroying, preceded by thick clouds of
smoke. Before then, I had been accustomed to sights and scenes of
peril, and had witnessed the burning of short grass to some extent;
but this was the first time I had been in such fearful danger--the
first time I felt the awfulness of such a situation--the first time
that I had really seen the prairie on fire!
_Brian._ There can be nothing in the world like a burning prairie,
unless it be a burning mountain.
_Hunter._ A burning prairie, when we are near it, is a vast and
overwhelming spectacle; but every rising and setting sun exhibits
Almighty wisdom, power and goodness, on a scale infinitely beyond that
of a hundred burning prairies. It is a good thing to accustom
ourselves to regard the works of creation around us with that
attention and wonder they are calculated to inspire, and especially to
ponder on the manifestation of God's grace set forth in his holy word.
When burning prairies and burning mountains shall be all extinguished;
when rising and setting suns and all earthly glory shall be unknown;
then shall the followers of the Redeemer gaze on the brighter glories
of heaven, and dwell for ever with their Leader and their Lord.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Buffalo Dance.]