A Great Buffalo "Pot-Hunt" [pp. 215-223]

A GREAT BUFF4ALO "POT-HUN2T."
for his camp-fires as he passes over the mountain;
and, as no more timber will be encountered during
the hunt, he also carefully selects an abundant sup ply of poplar-poles upon which to hang the meat to
dry after the chase, and for use as frames in stretch ing robes to be tanned.
As hour after hour and day after day the carts
come straggling in, sometimes a single hunter with
his outfit of from three to ten carts, again a train so
swollen by contributions along the road as to num ber hundreds, the camp of rendezvous enlarges its
borders, and presents a scene both novel and pictu resque. The elevated plain on the immediate banks
of the stream is covered with a motley grouping of
carts, canvas tents, smoke-brown leather tefpes, and,
in lieu of other shelter, small squares of cotton or
raw-hide stretched from cart to cart, or over a rough
framework of poles. For miles around the prairie
is alive with ponies, hoppled, tied to lariat-pins, or
dragging about poles as a preventive against straying. Mingledl with this kicking, neighing herd, wander hundreds of oxen - patient, lowing kine, the
youthful vivacity of which has given place to middle-aged steadiness. Through this compact mass of
animal life gallop with a wild scurry, from time to
time, half-nude boys, breaking a narrow pathway in
search of some needed ox or pony, or hurrying the
whole struggling mass riverward. In the camp the
sole occupation of the day is the pursuit of pleasure.
From every tent and shelter comes the sound of
laughter; every camp-fire furnishes its quota of jest
and song. Here a small but excited circle, gathered
under the shade of a cart, are deeply engaged in
gambling by what is known as the "moccasin-game."
In an empty moccasin are placed sundry buttons and
bullets, which, being shaken up, involve the guessing
of the number in the shoe. The ground is covered
with guns, capotes, and shirts, the volatile half-breed
often stripping the clothing from his back to satisfy
his passion for play, or staking his last horse and
cart. There another like-minded party are gambling with cards, the stakes being a medley of everything portable owned by the players. In many
tents rum is holding an orgy, and the clinking of
cups, boisterous laughter, and song, tell of the presence of the direst enemy of the hunter. In another
quarter feasting is the order of the day, and the
small stock of provisions, designed to supply the
family until the buffalo were reached, is being devoured at a sitting. The host knows this; but, then,
he selects a feast and its consequent famine. Yonder, tawny Pyramus is making love to dusky Thisbe
after the moat approved fashion. They seem indifferent to the exposure of the camp, and conduct
their wooing as if no curious eyes were upon them.
About the many camp-fires stand, or crouch, the
wives of the hunters, busily engaged in culinary
operations, or gossiping with neighbors, while their
numerous scantily-attired offspring play about in
the dust and dirt with wolfish-looking dogs. The
baby of the family, fastened to a board, leans against
a cart - wheel, doubtless revolving in its infantile
mind those subtile questions pertinent to babyhood.
Gathered in a circle apart are likely to be found the
aged leaders of the hunt, engaged in discussion of the
weightier matters of the time; but, from the broad
smiles lighting up their bronzed features at times, it
is doubtful whether many of the subjects are rele vant. Perched high on a cart-wheel, farther on, sits
a long-haired Paganini, drawing rude melodies from
an antiquated and fractured violin. About him are
congregated a crowd of delighted hearers, suggesting
new tunes, requesting the loan of the instrument
long enough to exhibit their own skill, or, seized
with the infection, suddenly breaking into an impro vised break-down, or executing a pas seul the very
embodiment of caricature. Reclining under the shade
of carts, in every possible attitude, lie weary hunters
indulging in a siesta, from which to be rudely awakened by some practical joke of their fellows, only to
find themselves bound hand and foot. Again, the
awaking is made in a manner more congenial by the
mellow gurgling of proffered liquor held to the lips.
About the outskirts of the camp the veteran horsetrader plies his calling, painting the merits of the
animal in hand in vivid coleur de rose. Above all
rises the clamor of many tongues, speaking many
languages, the neighing of horses, the lowing of
kine, the barking of hundreds of dogs, and the
shouts and yells of fresh arrivals, as they pour hourly in to swell the numbers of the already vast encampment.
In the afternoon, if the day be propitious, the
camp becomes for a time comparatively deserted,
the noise and excitement being temporarily transferred to the distance of a mile or more upon the
prairie. Here the hunter presents a totally different appearance from the lounging, tattered, unkempt
personage of the morning. He has donned his holiday apparel, appearing in all the bravery of new
moccasins, tasseled cap, gaudy shirt, fine blue capote,
and corduroy trousers. His sash is of the most
brilliant pattern, and wound about his waist to make
its broadest display. He is mounted upon his best
horse, with bridle and saddle decked with ribbons
and bravery, and has suddenly become an alert, active, volatile, and excitable being, constantly gesticulating, shouting, and full of life. A straight course
is marked off upon the prairie of, say, half a mile in
length. After well-known leaders of the hunt have
been stationed at either end, the racing begins.
Betting runs high, the wagers of the principals being generally horse against horse, those of outsiders
ranging from valuable horses down through carts
and oxen to the clothing worn at the moment. All
is excitement, and, as the contestants dash forward,
with that peculiar plunging of the heels into the
flanks of the horses at every jump, affected by the
plain-hunter, it breaks forth in cheers and gesticulations of encouragement to the favorite. All points
of disagreement are quickly settled by the dictum
of the umpires, and the loser quietly strips saddle
and bridle from his much-prized animal, and consoles himself for the loss in copious draughts of
rum. To the regular courses of the day succeed a
multitude of scrub-races, gotten up on the spur of
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