The long looked for day at length arrived when the game were to be met
with, and I had myself the "distinguished honour" of being the first not
only to see the great buffalo, but to throw a couple of them "in their
tracks." This incident, however, was not without an "adventure," and
one that was neither very pleasant nor without peril. During several
late days of our journey we had been in the habit of straggling a good
deal in search of game--deer if we could find it, but more especially in
hopes of falling in with the buffalo. Sometimes we went in twos or
threes, but as often one of the party rode off alone to hunt wherever
his inclination guided him. Sometimes these solitary expeditions took
place while the party was on the march, but oftener during the hours
after we had pitched our night-camp.
One evening, after we had camped as usual, and my brave horse had eaten
his "bite" of corn, I leaped into the saddle and rode off in hopes of
finding something fresh for supper. The prairie where we had halted was
a "rolling" one, and as the camp had been fixed on a small stream,
between two great swells, it was not visible at any great distance. As
soon, therefore, as I had crossed one of the ridges, I was out of sight
of my companions. Trusting to the sky for my direction, I continued on.
After riding about a mile, I came upon buffalo "sign," consisting of
several circular holes in the ground, five or six feet in diameter,
known as buffalo wallows I saw at a glance that the sign was fresh.
There were several wallows; and I could tell by the tracks, in the dusk,
there had been bulls in that quarter. So I continued on in hopes of
getting a sight of the animals that had been wallowing.
Shortly after, I came to a place where the ground was ploughed up, as if
a drove of hogs had been rooting it. Here there had been a terrible
fight among the bulls--it was the rutting season, when such conflicts
occur. This augured well. Perhaps they are still in the neighbourhood,
reasoned I, as I gave the spur to my horse, and galloped forward with
more spirit.
I had ridden full five miles from camp, when my attention was attracted
by an odd noise ahead of me. There was a ridge in front that prevented
me from seeing what produced the noise; but I knew what it was--it was
the bellowing of a buffalo-bull.
At intervals, there were quick shocks, as of two hard substances coming
in violent contact with each other.
I mounted the ridge with caution, and looked over its crest. There was
a valley beyond; a cloud of dust was rising out of its bottom, and in
the midst of this I could distinguish two huge forms--dark and hirsute.
I saw at once that they were a pair of buffalo-bulls engaged in a fierce
fight. They were alone; there were no others in sight, either in the
valley or on the prairie beyond.
I did not halt longer than to see that the cap was on my rifle, and to
cock the piece. Occupied as the animals were, I did not imagine they
would heed me: or, if they should attempt flight, I knew I could easily
overtake one or other; so, without farther hesitation or precaution, I
rode towards them.
Contrary to my expectation, they both "winded" me, and started off. The
wind was blowing freshly towards them, and the sun had thrown my shadow
between them, so as to draw their attention.
They did not run, however, as if badly scared; on the contrary, they
went off, apparently indignant at being disturbed in their fight; and
every now and then both came round with short turnings, snorted, and
struck the prairie with their hoofs in a violent and angry manner.
Once or twice, I fancied they were going to charge upon me; and had I
been otherwise than well mounted, I should have been very chary of
risking such an encounter. A more formidable pair of antagonists, as
far as appearance went, could not have been well conceived. Their huge
size, their shaggy fronts, and fierce glaring eyeballs, gave them a wild
and malicious seeming, which was heightened by their bellowing, and the
threatening attitudes in which they continually placed themselves.
Feeling quite safe in my saddle, I galloped up to the nearest, and sent
my bullet into his ribs. It did the work. He fell to his knees--rose
again--spread out his legs, as if to prevent a second fall--rocked from
side to side like a cradle--again came to his knees; and after remaining
in this position for some minutes, with the blood running from his
nostrils, rolled quietly over on his shoulder, and lay dead.
I had watched these manoeuvres with interest, and permitted the second
bull to make his escape; a side-glance had shown me the latter
disappearing over the crest of the swell.
I did not care to follow him, as my horse was somewhat jaded, and I knew
it would cost me a sharp gallop to come up with him again; so I thought
no more of him at that time, but alighted, and prepared to deal with the
one already slain.
There stood a solitary tree near the spot--it was a stunted cotton-wood.
There were others upon the prairie, but they were distant; this one was
not twenty yards from the carcass. I led my horse up to it, and taking
the trail-rope from the horn of the saddle, made one end fast to the
bit-ring, and the other to the tree. I then went back, drew my knife,
and proceeded to cut up the buffalo.
I had hardly whetted my blade, when a noise from behind caused me to
leap to an upright attitude, and look round; at the first glance, I
comprehended the noise. A huge dark object was passing the crest of the
ridge, and rushing down the hill towards the spot where I stood. It was
the buffalo-bull, the same that had just left me.
The sight, at first thought, rather pleased me than otherwise. Although
I did not want any more meat, I should have the triumph of carrying two
tongues instead of one to the camp. I therefore hurriedly sheathed my
knife, and laid hold of my rifle, which, according to custom, I had
taken the precaution to re-load.
I hesitated a moment whether to run to my horse and mount him, or to
fire from where I stood. That question, however, was settled by the
buffalo. The tree and the horse were to one side of the direction in
which he was running, but being attracted by the loud snorting of the
horse, which had begun to pitch and plunge violently, and deeming it
perhaps a challenge, the buffalo suddenly swerved from his course, and
ran full tilt upon the horse. The latter shot out instantly to the full
length of the trail-rope--a heavy "pluck" sounded in my ears, and the
next instant I saw my horse part from the tree, and scour off over the
prairie, as if there had been a thistle under his tail. I had knotted
the rope negligently upon the bit-ring, and the knot had "come undone."
I was chagrined, but not alarmed as yet. My horse would no doubt follow
back his own trail, and at the worst I should only have to walk to the
camp. I should have the satisfaction of punishing the buffalo for the
trick he had served me; and with this design I turned towards him.
I saw that he had not followed the horse, but was again heading himself
in my direction.
Now, for the first time, it occurred to me that I was in something of a
scrape. The bull was coming furiously on. Should my shot miss, or even
should it only wound him, how was I to escape? I knew that he could
overtake me in a three minutes' stretch; I knew that well.
I had not much time for reflection--not a moment, in fact: the
infuriated animal was within ten paces of me. I raised my rifle, aimed
at his fore-shoulder, and fired.
I saw that I had hit him; but, to my dismay, he neither fell nor
stumbled, but continued to charge forward more furiously than ever.
To re-load was impossible. My pistols had gone off with my horse and
holsters. Even to reach the tree was impossible; the bull was between
it and me.
To make off in the opposite direction was the only thing that held out
the prospect of five minutes' safety; I turned and ran.
I can run as fast as most men, and upon that occasion I did my best. It
would have put "Gildersleeve" into a white sweat to have distanced me;
but I had not been two minutes at it, when I felt conscious that the
buffalo gained upon me, and was almost treading upon my heels! I knew
it only by my ears--I dared not spare time to look back.
At this moment, an object appeared before me, that promised, one way or
another, to interrupt the chase; it was a ditch or gully, that
intersected my path at right angles. It was several feet in depth, dry
at the bottom, and with perpendicular sides.
I was almost upon its edge before I noticed it, but the moment it came
under my eye, I saw that it offered the means of a temporary safety at
least. If I could only leap this gully, I felt satisfied that the
buffalo could not.
It was a sharp leap--at least, seventeen feet from cheek to cheek; but I
had done more than that in my time; and, without halting in my gait, I
ran forward to the edge, and sprang over.
I alighted cleverly upon the opposite bank, where I stopped, and turned
round to watch my pursuer.
I now ascertained how near my end I had been: the bull was already up to
the very edge of the gully. Had I not made my leap at the instant I
did, I should have been by that time dancing upon his horns. He himself
had balked at the leap; the deep chasm-like cleft had cowed him. He saw
that he could not clear it; and now stood upon the opposite bank with
head lowered, and spread nostrils, his tail lashing his brown flanks,
while his glaring black eyes expressed the full measure of his baffled
rage.
I remarked that my shot had taken effect in his shoulder, as the blood
trickled from his long hair.
I had almost begun to congratulate myself on having escaped, when a
hurried glance to the right, and another to the left, cut short my
happiness. I saw that on both sides, at a distance of less than fifty
paces, the gully shallowed out into the plain, where it ended; at either
end it was, of course, passable.
The bull observed this almost at the same time as myself; and, suddenly
turning away from the brink, he ran along the edge of the chasm,
evidently with the intention of turning it.
In less than a minute's time we were once more on the same side, and my
situation appeared as terrible as ever; but, stepping back for a short
run, I re-leaped the chasm, and again we stood on opposite sides.
During all these manoeuvres I had held on to my rifle; and, seeing now
that I might have time to load it, I commenced feeling for my
powder-horn. To my astonishment, I could not lay my hands upon it: I
looked down to my breast for the sling--it was not there; belt and
bullet-pouch too--all were gone! I remembered lifting them over my
head, when I set about cutting the dead bull. They were lying by the
carcass.
This discovery was a new source of chagrin; but for my negligence, I
could now have mastered my antagonist.
To reach the ammunition would be impossible; I should be overtaken
before I had got half-way to it.
I was not allowed much time to indulge in my regrets; the bull had again
turned the ditch, and was once more upon the same side with me, and I
was compelled to take another leap.
I really do not remember how often I sprang backwards and forwards
across that chasm; I should think a dozen times at least, and I became
wearied with the exercise. The leap was just as much as I could do at
my best; and as I was growing weaker at each fresh spring, I became
satisfied that I should soon leap short, and crush myself against the
steep rocky sides of the chasm.
Should I fall to the bottom, my pursuer could easily reach me by
entering at either end, and I began to dread such a finale. The
vengeful brute showed no symptoms of retiring; on the contrary, the
numerous disappointments seemed only to render him more determined in
his resentment.
An idea now suggested itself to my mind, I had looked all round to see
if there might not be something that offered a better security. There
were trees, but they were too distant: the only one near was that to
which my horse had been tied. It was a small one, and, like all of its
species (it was a cotton-wood), there were no branches near the root.
I knew that I could clamber up it by embracing the trunk, which was not
over ten inches in diameter. Could I only succeed in reaching it, it
would at least shelter me better than the ditch, of which I was getting
heartily tired.
But the question was, could I reach it before the bull?
It was about three hundred yards off. By proper manoeuvring, I should
have a start of fifty. Even, with that, it would be a "close shave;"
and it proved so.
I arrived at the tree, however, and sprang up it like a mountebank; but
the hot breath of the buffalo steamed after me as I ascended, and the
concussion of his heavy skull against the trunk almost shook me back
upon his horns.
After a severe effort of climbing, I succeeded in lodging myself among
the branches.