Next morning the boy hunters were up and stirring at the "peep of day."
They felt refreshed and cheerful. So did their animals, for the grass
was good. Jeanette was frisking about on her trail-rope and
endeavouring to reach "Le Chat," whom she would have kicked and bitten
to a certainty, but that the lasso-tether restrained her. Jeanette
little dreamt how near she had been to her last kick. Had she known
that, it is probable she would have carried herself with more sobriety,
not knowing but that a similar necessity might occur again. But
Jeanette knew nothing of it; and, having eaten well and drunk
plentifully, she was as frisky as a kitten.
A fire was kindled, and a fresh "marrow-bone" steamed and sputtered
among the blazing branches of the sage. This was soon drawn forth
again, cracked, and its rich contents rifled and eaten. The remaining
joints were packed upon Jeanette; the horses were saddled, the hunters
leaped into their seats, and rode joyfully off upon the trail.
The country over which they now travelled was what is termed a "rolling
prairie"--that is, a country without trees, but nevertheless, far from
being level. The prairie is not always a _level plain_, as some people
imagine. On the contrary, it is often of very uneven surface,
containing high hills and deep valleys. The word "prairie" means
properly an open level country, though it is not necessary that it
should be a _dead horizontal_ level, to entitle it to the name. It may
contain hills, valleys, and long ridges. It is not necessary either
that it should be entirely destitute of trees; for there are the "timber
prairies," where trees grow in "mottes" or groves, sometimes termed
islands--from their resemblance to wooded islands in the sea. The
"prairie" is a term used to distinguish those vast meadow-like tracts of
the earth's surface from the forest, the mountain, and the ocean. The
prairies themselves are distinguished by specific names, according to
what covers their surface. We have seen that there are "timber
prairies" and "flower-prairies." The latter are usually denominated
"weed prairies" by the rude hunters who roam over them. The vast green
meadows covered with "buffalo" grass, or "gramma," or "mezquite" grass,
are termed "grass prairies." The tracts of salt efflorescence--often
fifty miles long and nearly as wide--are called "salt prairies;" and a
somewhat similar land, where soda covers the surface, are named "soda
prairies." There are vast desert plains where no vegetation appears,
save the wild sage-bushes (_artemisia_). These are the "sage prairies,"
hundreds of miles of which exist in the central parts of the North
American continent. There are prairies of sand, and "rock prairies,"
where the "cut-rock" and pebble deposits cover the arid plains; and
still another variety, called the "hog-wallow prairies," where the
surface for miles exhibits a rough appearance, as if it had been at some
remote period turned over or "rooted" by hogs.
Most of these names have been given by the trappers--the true pioneers
of this wild region. Who have an equal right to bestow them?
Scientific men may explore it--topographical officers may travel over it
in safety with a troop at their heels--they may proclaim themselves the
discoverers of the passes and the plains, the mountains and the rivers,
the fauna and the flora--on their maps they may give them the names,
first of themselves, then of their _patrons_, then of their friends,
and, lastly, of their favourite dogs and horses. They may call
stupendous mountains and grand rivers by the names of Smith and Jones,
of Fremont and Stansbury; but men who think justly, and even the rude
but wronged trappers themselves, will laugh to scorn such _scientific
coxcombry_.
I honour the names which the trappers have given to the features of that
far land; many of which, like the Indian nomenclature, are the
expressions of nature itself; and not a few of them have been baptised
by the blood of these brave pioneers.
We have said that our adventurers now travelled upon a "rolling
prairie." The surface exhibited vast ridges with hollows between. Did
you ever see the ocean after a storm? Do you know what a "ground-swell"
is?--when the sea is heaving up in great smooth ridges without crest or
foam, and deep troughs between--when the tempest has ceased to howl and
the winds to blow, yet still so uneven remains the surface of the mighty
deep, still so dangerous are these smooth waves, that ships rock and
tumble about, and sometimes lose their masts, or are flung upon their
beam ends! That is what the sailors call a "swell." Now, if you could
imagine one of these billowy seas to be suddenly arrested in its motion,
and the water transformed to solid earth, and covered with a green
sward, you would have something not unlike a "rolling prairie." Some
think that, when these prairies were formed, some such rolling motion
actually existed, by means of an earthquake, and that all at once the
ground ceased its undulations, and stood still! It is an interesting
speculation for the learned geologist.
The ridges of the prairie, upon which our adventurers were journeying,
extended from east to west, and, of course, the valleys trended in the
same direction. The route was northward; the path, therefore, which the
travellers pursued was a continued succession of ups and downs.
Eagerly looking before them, anxiously scanning the valleys or troughs
of the prairie as they surmounted each new swell, they rode onward full
of hope that they would soon come in sight of the buffaloes. But they
were not prepared for the sight was so soon to greet their eyes--a sight
which one would have supposed would have filled them with joy, but
which, on the contrary, had the effect of inspiring them with a feeling
akin to terror.
They had just climbed one of the ridges that gave them a view of the
valley beyond. It was a small deep valley, of nearly a circular form,
and covered with a green turf. Near one side of it was a spring--the
waters of which issuing forth ran nearly around the circumference of the
valley, and then escaped through one of the troughs of the prairie. The
course of this rivulet could be traced by the low trees--cotton-woods
and willows--that fringed its banks; so that the central part of the
valley presented the appearance of a small circular meadow almost
surrounded by a grove.
It was in this meadow that a spectacle was offered to the eyes of our
adventurers, which caused them to rein suddenly up, and sit gazing down
upon it with singular emotions. The spectacle was that of a number of
animals engaged in what appeared to be a mixed and terrible combat!
There was not over a dozen of them in all, but they were large animals,
of fierce aspect and furious bearing; and so desperately were they
assailing one another, that the green turf around them was torn and
furrowed by their hoofs. It was in the middle of the meadow that this
indiscriminate contest was carried on--in the open ground--and a finer
spot for such an exhibition they could hardly have chosen, had they
wished to accommodate a large number of spectators. The valley itself,
with the ridges that encircled it, was not unlike one of the great
Spanish amphitheatres, where bull-fights are carried on; while the
smooth, level surface of the meadow represented the arena. The
combatants, however, were engaged in no mock encounter to gratify the
curiosity of an idle crowd; nor did they apprehend that there were
spectators present.
The contest in which they were engaged was a _real_ fight; and their
angry roars, their hurried rushing backwards and forwards, and the loud
cracking of their skulls as they came together, proved them to be in
earnest.
That the animals were buffaloes was apparent at first sight. Their
great bulk, the lion-like form of their bodies, but, above all, their
bellowing, that resembled the "routing" of enraged bulls, convinced our
young hunters that they could be no other than buffaloes--and buffaloes
they were--a "gang" of old buffalo bulls engaged in one of their
terrible tournaments.
I have said that our hunters, on first seeing them, were influenced by
feelings of terror. But why so? What was there in the appearance of a
herd of buffaloes to frighten them, since that was the very thing they
had so long been in search of? Was it the angry attitudes of the
animals, or their loud roaring? Nothing of the sort? No. That was not
what had inspired them with fear, or, as I should rather term it, with
awe. No. The reason was very different indeed. It was not because
they were buffaloes, or because they were engaged in a fierce battle,--
it was because _they were white buffaloes_!
You will again ask, why this should have been a cause of terror. Was a
_white_ buffalo not the very object of the expedition? Should the sight
of one not have produced _joy_ rather than _fear_? So the sight of
_one_ would; but it was the sight of _so many_--the mysterious spectacle
of nearly a dozen of these animals together--a thing unparalleled,
unheard of--it was this that inspired our adventurers with awe.
It was some time before any of the three could find words to express
their astonishment. They sat in silence, gazing down into the valley.
They could hardly believe the evidence of their eyes. With the palms of
their hands they shaded them from the sun, and gazed still a longer
while. They saw, at length, there could be no deception. Buffaloes the
animals were, and _white ones_ too!
They were not all of an uniform white, though most of them were. A few
were darker about the heads and legs, with broad white flakes upon their
sides, giving them a mottled appearance. The general colour, however,
was whitish; and, strange to say, there was not a black or brown one in
the herd!--not one of the well-known colour that buffaloes usually are!
It was this that rendered them such a mysterious band in the eyes of our
adventurers.
The latter, however, soon got over their surprise. There could be no
doubt that they had fallen in with a herd of white buffaloes. Perhaps,
thought they, there is, after all, nothing so strange in such a number
of them being together. Perhaps the individuals of that colour, so
rarely met with, usually associate together in this way, and keep apart
from the black ones. What better fortune could have happened for them
then? If they could only succeed in killing one of these creatures, it
would be all that they could wish for, and all they wanted. The object
of their expedition would then be accomplished; and nothing would remain
but to turn their horses' heads, and take the shortest route homeward.
With these ideas passing through their minds, they at once set about
considering how they might kill or capture one or more of the herd.
They were not slow to decide upon a plan. The buffaloes, still
continuing their angry conflict, had not noticed them as yet, nor were
they likely to do so. The hunters resolved, therefore, that two of them
should remain on horseback--so as to take the animals upon the "run"--
while the third was to endeavour to "approach" them on foot, and get a
sure shot before they should start off, taking his chance of joining in
the chase afterwards. The latter duty was assigned to Basil; who, after
dismounting from his horse, and looking to his trusty rifle, commenced
creeping down into the valley. Lucien and Francois--still in their
saddles--remained upon the ridge.
Basil reached the grove of willows without being observed; and, stealing
silently through, found himself within less than fifty paces of several
of the herd. They were still rushing to and fro, raising the dust in
clouds, roaring furiously, parting from each other, and then meeting
head to head with such force that each time their skulls cracked as
though both had been broken by the terrible concussion. The hunter
waited until one of the largest, and apparently the whitest of them,
came very near; and then, taking aim behind the fore-shoulder, fired.
The huge animal was seen to tumble over; while the others, hearing the
shot, or scenting the presence of an enemy, immediately left off their
contest; and, breaking through the willows, scrambled up the ridge
toward the open prairie.
Without waiting to look after the one that he had fired at, Basil ran
toward his horse--which, at his call, was already galloping to meet him.
Francois and Lucien were now in pursuit of the flying herd; and Basil,
hastily mounting, followed after. In a few minutes the three were side
by side with the buffaloes; and then could be heard the cracking of guns
and pistols until the weapons of all were empty; but, although not a
shot had missed hitting the animals, the latter continued to gallop on,
as though none of them had been hurt! Before the hunters could reload,
they had the mortification to see the whole band far off upon the
prairie, and running as briskly as ever!
Seeing that there would be no chance to come up with them again, they
all turned their horses, and commenced riding back to make sure of the
one which Basil had knocked over by his first shot. He was still in the
valley they knew, and as they had all seen him lying prostrate, they
felt certain they had secured one at least, and that was all they
wanted.
On reaching the ridge that overlooked the valley, what was their
surprise to see the buffalo once more upon his feet, and surrounded by a
score of snapping, snarling wolves! These were rushing upon him from
all sides at once; while the wounded bull was turning briskly about, and
endeavouring to keep them at bay with his horns. Some of the wolves
were seen stretched out on the ground--to all appearance dead--while
their companions kept up the attack with unrelenting fury. The eyes of
the buffalo flashed fire, as, wheeling round and round, he endeavoured
to keep his assailants in front of him.
It was evident, however, that the wolves were gaining upon him; and, had
they been left to themselves, would soon have brought him down. Our
hunters at first thought of allowing them to accomplish this feat; when
all at once it occurred to them that, if they did so, the _skin might be
spoiled_! The wolves with their fierce teeth would tear it to pieces.
This thought decided them upon a different plan; and all three galloped
down the ridge and out into the meadow--surrounding the buffalo as they
came up. The wolves scattered in every direction; and the great bull,
now perceiving his new enemies, commenced rushing from one to the other,
endeavouring to carry their horses upon his horns. It was with great
difficulty that they could keep out of his reach; but at length another
well-directed shot from Basil's rifle entered the heart of the animal;
and, after balancing himself upon his spread limbs, and rocking awhile
from side to side, the huge creature fell forward upon his knees and lay
motionless, with a stream of blood pouring from his lips. In a few
moments he was dead!
Having made sure of this, our hunters flung themselves from their
horses, drew their skinning-knives, and made up to the noble quarry.
You may fancy their astonishment as well as chagrin, when, upon getting
close to the animal, they discovered that what they had taken for a
white buffalo was no white buffalo after all, but a _black one painted
white_! Neither more nor less. The thing was too plain. The lime-like
coating which covered the huge animal all over was now apparent; and as
they passed their hands through the long hair, a white substance
resembling pulverised chalk came off upon their fingers!
What could have caused the strange phenomenon, they asked one another.
But the explanation was soon found. They remembered the gypsum hills
over which they had ridden on the preceding day. They remembered, too,
that it had rained in the night. The buffaloes had been among these
hills; and, according to their usual habit, had rolled and wallowed
about in the wetted dust-heaps. The white, alabaster-like mud had
adhered to their skins--thus giving them the colour which had so much
deceived and mystified our hunters!
"Well," exclaimed Basil, giving a kick to the body of the dead bull,
"even _black_ buffalo is not so bad after all. At the worst we shall
have fresh meat for dinner; and with that let us console ourselves for
the disappointment."
So saying, Basil made signs to his brothers to assist; and all three set
about preparing to skin the animal.