"Let's have a look. No, nothin' to speak o', be
good luck. Ye should niver go slap through a badger
country like that, boy; always keep i' the bottoms, where
the grass is short. Now then, up ye go. That's it!"
Dick remounted, though not with quite so elastic a
spring as usual, and they pushed forward at a more
reasonable pace.
Accidents of this kind are of common occurrence in
the prairies. Some horses, however, are so well trained
that they look sharp out for these holes, which are generally
found to be most numerous on the high and dry
grounds. But in spite of all the caution both of man
and horse many ugly falls take place, and sometimes
bones are broken.
They had not gone far after this accident when an
antelope leaped from a clump of willows, and made for
a belt of woodland that lay along the margin of a stream
not half-a-mile off.
"Hurrah!" cried Dick, forgetting his recent fall.
"Come along, Crusoe." And away they went again
full tilt, for the horse had not been injured by its
somersault.
The antelope which Dick was thus wildly pursuing
was of the same species as the one he had shot some
time before--namely, the prong-horned antelope. These
graceful creatures have long, slender limbs, delicately-formed
heads, and large, beautiful eyes. The horns are
black, and rather short; they have no branches, like
the antlers of the red-deer, but have a single projection
on each horn, near the head, and the extreme points
of the horns curve suddenly inwards, forming the
hook or prong from which the name of the animal
is derived. Their colour is dark yellowish brown.
They are so fleet that not one horse in a hundred
can overtake them; and their sight and sense of smell
are so acute that it would be next to impossible to kill
them, were it not for the inordinate curiosity which
we have before referred to. The Indians manage to
attract these simple little creatures by merely lying
down on their backs and kicking their heels in the air,
or by waving any white object on the point of an arrow,
while the hunter keeps concealed by lying flat in the
grass. By these means a herd of antelopes may be
induced to wheel round and round an object in timid
but intense surprise, gradually approaching until they
come near enough to enable the hunter to make sure of
his mark. Thus the animals, which of all others
ought
to be the most difficult to slay, are, in consequence of
their insatiable curiosity, more easily shot than any other
deer of the plains.
May we not gently suggest to the reader for his or
her consideration that there are human antelopes, so to
speak, whose case bears a striking resemblance to the
prong-horn of the North American prairie?
Dick's horse was no match for the antelope, neither
was Crusoe; so they pulled up shortly and returned to
their companions, to be laughed at.
"It's no manner o' use to wind yer horse, lad, after
sich game. They're not much worth, an', if I mistake
not, we'll be among the buffalo soon. There's fresh
tracks everywhere, and the herds are scattered now. Ye
see, when they keep together in bands o' thousands ye
don't so often fall in wi' them. But when they scatters
about in twos, an' threes, an' sixes ye may shoot them
every day as much as ye please."
Several groups of buffalo had already been seen on
the horizon, but as a red-deer had been shot in a belt
of woodland the day before they did not pursue them.
The red-deer is very much larger than the prong-horned
antelope, and is highly esteemed both for its flesh and
its skin, which latter becomes almost like chamois
leather when dressed. Notwithstanding this supply of
food, the hunters could not resist the temptation to give
chase to a herd of about nine buffaloes that suddenly
came into view as they overtopped an undulation in the
plain.
"It's no use," cried Dick, "I
must
go at them!"
Joe himself caught fire from the spirit of his young
friend, so calling to Henri to come on and let the pack-horse
remain to feed, he dashed away in pursuit. The
buffaloes gave one stare of surprise, and then fled as fast
as possible. At first it seemed as if such huge, unwieldy
carcasses could not run very fast; but in a few
minutes they managed to get up a pace that put the
horses to their mettle. Indeed, at first it seemed as if
the hunters did not gain an inch; but by degrees they
closed with them, for buffaloes are not long winded.
On nearing the herd, the three men diverged from
each other and selected their animals. Henri, being
short-sighted, naturally singled out the largest; and the
largest--also naturally--was a tough old bull. Joe
brought down a fat young cow at the first shot, and
Dick was equally fortunate. But he well-nigh shot
Crusoe, who, just as he was about to fire, rushed in unexpectedly
and sprang at the animal's throat, for which
piece of recklessness he was ordered back to watch the
pack-horse.
Meanwhile, Henri, by dint of yelling, throwing his
arms wildly about, and digging his heels into the sides
of his long-legged horse, succeeded in coming close up
with the bull, which once or twice turned his clumsy
body half round and glared furiously at its pursuer
with its small black eyes. Suddenly it stuck out its
tail, stopped short, and turned full round. Henri stopped
short also. Now, the sticking out of a buffalo's tail has
a peculiar significance which it is well to point out. It
serves, in a sense, the same purpose to the hunter that
the compass does to the mariner--it points out where to
go and what to do. When galloping away in ordinary
flight, the buffalo carries his tail like ordinary cattle,
which indicates that you may push on. When wounded,
he lashes it from side to side, or carries it over his back,
up in the air; this indicates, "Look out! haul off a
bit!" But when he carries it stiff and horizontal, with
a
slight curve
in the middle of it, it says plainly, "Keep
back, or kill me as quick as you can," for that is what
Indians call the
mad tail
, and is a sign that mischief is
brewing.
Henri's bull displayed the mad tail just before turning,
but he didn't observe it, and, accordingly, waited for the
bull to move and show his shoulder for a favourable
shot. But instead of doing this he put his head down,
and, foaming with rage, went at him full tilt. The big
horse never stirred; it seemed to be petrified, Henri
had just time to fire at the monster's neck, and the next
moment was sprawling on his back, with the horse rolling
over four or five yards beyond him. It was a most
effective tableau--Henri rubbing his shins and grinning
with pain, the horse gazing in affright as he rose trembling
from the plain, and the buffalo bull looking on
half stunned, and evidently very much surprised at the
result of his charge.
Fortunately, before he could repeat the experiment,
Dick galloped up and put a ball through his heart.
Joe and his comrades felt a little ashamed of their
exploit on this occasion, for there was no need to have
killed three animals--they could not have carried with
them more than a small portion of one--and they upbraided
themselves several times during the operation of
cutting out the tongues and other choice portions of the
two victims. As for the bull, he was almost totally
useless, so they left him as a gift to the wolves.
Now that they had come among the buffalo, wolves
were often seen sneaking about and licking their hungry
jaws; but although they approached pretty near to the
camp at nights, they did not give the hunters any concern.
Even Crusoe became accustomed to them at last,
and ceased to notice them. These creatures are very
dangerous sometimes, however, and when hard pressed
by hunger will even attack man. The day after this
hunt the travellers came upon a wounded old buffalo
which had evidently escaped from the Indians (for a
couple of arrows were sticking in its side), only to fall
a prey to his deadly enemies, the white wolves. These
savage brutes hang on the skirts of the herds of buffaloes
to attack and devour any one that may chance, from
old age or from being wounded, to linger behind the rest.
The buffalo is tough and fierce, however, and fights so
desperately that, although surrounded by fifty or a
hundred wolves, he keeps up the unequal combat for
several days before he finally succumbs.
The old bull that our travellers discovered had evidently
been long engaged with his ferocious adversaries,
for his limbs and flesh were torn in shreds in
many places, and blood was streaming from his sides.
Yet he had fought so gallantly that he had tossed and
stamped to death dozens of the enemy. There could
not have been fewer than fifty wolves round him; and
they had just concluded another of many futile attacks
when the hunters came up, for they were ranged in a
circle round their huge adversary--some lying down,
some sitting on their haunches to rest, and others sneaking
about, lolling out their red tongues and licking their
chops as if impatient to renew the combat. The poor
buffalo was nearly spent, and it was clear that a few
hours more would see him torn to shreds and his bones
picked clean.
"Ugh! de brutes," ejaculated Henri.
"They don't seem to mind us a bit," remarked Dick,
as they rode up to within pistol shot.
"It'll be merciful to give the old fellow a shot," said
Joe. "Them varmints are sure to finish him at last."
Joe raised his rifle as he spoke, and fired. The old
bull gave his last groan and fell, while the wolves,
alarmed by the shot, fled in all directions; but they did
not run far. They knew well that some portion, at
least, of the carcass would fall to their share; so they
sat down at various distances all round, to wait as
patiently as they might for the hunters to retire. Dick
left the scene with a feeling of regret that the villanous
wolves should have their feast so much sooner than they
expected.
Yet, after all, why should we call these wolves villanous?
They did nothing wrong--nothing contrary to
the laws of their peculiar nature. Nay, if we come to
reason upon it, they rank higher in this matter than
man; for while the wolf does no violence to the laws of
its instincts, man often deliberately silences the voice of
conscience, and violates the laws of his own nature.
But we will not insist on the term, good reader, if you
object strongly to it. We are willing to admit that the
wolves are
not
villanous, but,
assuredly
, they are
unlovable.
In the course of the afternoon the three horsemen
reached a small creek, the banks of which were lined
with a few stunted shrubs and trees. Having eaten
nothing since the night before, they dismounted here to
"feed," as Joe expressed it.
"Cur'ous thing," remarked Joe, as he struck a light
by means of flint, steel, and tinder-box--"cur'ous thing
that we're made to need sich a lot o' grub. If we could
only get on like the sarpints, now, wot can breakfast on
a rabbit, and then wait a month or two for dinner!
Ain't it cur'ous?"
Dick admitted that it was, and stooped to blow the
fire into a blaze.
Here Henri uttered a cry of consternation, and stood
speechless, with his mouth open.
"What's the matter? what is't?" cried Dick and Joe,
seizing their rifles instinctively.
"De--grub--him--be--forgat!"
There was a look of blank horror, and then a burst
of laughter from Dick Varley. "Well, well," cried he,
"we've got lots o' tea an' sugar, an' some flour; we can
git on wi' that till we shoot another buffalo, or a--ha!"
Dick observed a wild turkey stalking among the
willows as he spoke. It was fully a hundred yards off,
and only its head was seen above the leaves. This was
a matter of little moment, however, for by aiming a
little lower he knew that he must hit the body. But
Dick had driven the nail too often to aim at its body;
he aimed at the bird's eye, and cut its head off.
"Fetch it, Crusoe."
In three minutes it was at Dick's feet, and it is not
too much to say that in five minutes more it was in the
pot.
As this unexpected supply made up for the loss of the
meat which Henri had forgotten at their last halting-place,