Hunting the Bison [pp. 190-196]

8Hunting the Bison.
man on the camel not wishing to crowd
enough to scatter them.
As they came nearer we could see the
band of famished creatures, now tear ing through a gulch, then skimming
along over a ridge, setting in motion
every living thing in their neighborhood.
Wolves and coyotes ran to their holes in
alarm, while the ravens, disturbed at
their feasts on the remains of scattered
carcases of bison, circled high in the
heavens, crying for peace. Antelope
scattered away to be seen no more, and
the bison gathered into an ominous
position.
The bison were preparing for war.
The bulls formed a wide circle, while
the cows and calves picked the grasses
within the limits prescribed by the living palisade. This sight was grand!
Brave hearts! There was displayed rea son, bravery, and protecting gallantry,
-three noble qualities I had scarcely
believed the members of the black mass
possessed. Humans, barehanded, could
do no better in preparing for an expected attack; and, could I have held the
power, I should there and then have exempted all their family from further
persecution.
There on the line of Kansas and Colorado was the heart of that stretch of
bison country reaching from northern
Montana to Texas, in which these poor
brutes roved by thousands, and were
constantly being hounded, wounded,
maimed, tortured, and butchered.
Where the heart is now it would be
hard to tell, but it is safe to say that in
the near future the heart, body, and all
will be missing.
Near sunset the trial of speed and endurance began to tell on the band of
wild horses, and occasionally a mare and
colt, or some old stager, would drop out
and hustle away into a gulch, despite the
efforts of the stallions to keep them all
together.
The lasso men now began to seek a
position in a ravine where the coming
band would pass, and give them a close
quarter for beginning their race. The
chance came too soon and in a bad place.
The bison were massed about three
miles to the west of us, and when the
horses were headed in that direction the
lasso men galloped away, the man on
the camel at once withdrawing to our
camp, where Ida and I inspected his
steed to our hearts' content.
He was tame enough, as he well
might be, after all he had done since
morning, and he did n't object to a little
kindly familiarity. We patted and pet ted him, and scolded him for chasing
the poor horses; and though he did n't
lie down, we could see that he was tired.
He took no unnecessary steps in graz ing, but leaned himself this way and
that, and swept his long neck to either
side, so managing to stow away a ton or
less of sage-brush, cactus, and such un palatable stuff.
I did n't like it, and yet I suppose it
was a glorious sight, seeing the vaqueros,
with their long hair flying in the wind,
their lassos whirling in perfect circles
over their heads, as they sped over the
space dividing them from their game.
To the wild horses their coming was a
new terror, and it quickened their speed
noticeably. The man with the camel
began to curse and stamp.
"If those fools don't turn that band
in two minutes the game's up," ne exclaimed irately.
Sure enough, the men were riding
right into the center of the band to select their choice, and the whole bundle
of them were so near the now packed
mass of bison, that they were liable the
next minute to be charged upon by the
bulls standing in rank ready for action.
The men let go their lassos, and the
next moment the band was scattered
among the horned herd. One man
missed his throw, but the other brought
into camp a good solid looking horse,
though old, and bearing Major and Russel's brand.
1889.]
195