American Big-Game Hunting 
We made our camp at the mouth of a small 
ravine that led down to the stream through 
the bluffs, which there form its banks. Mil- 
lions of buffalo were driven before the storm, 
and, being prevented by the high banks 
of the river from crossing either above or 
below this point, were huddled together in 
a dense mass which threatened to overwhelm 
our little command. By placing our camp a 
little to one side of this living tide, and under 
the friendly shelter of the bluff, we passed the 
night in security, while the countless horde 
kept up its ceaseless tramp. 
For six days we continued our way through 
this enormous herd, during the last three of 
which it was in constant motion across our 
path. I am safe in calling this a single herd, 
and it is impossible to approximate the mil- 
lions that composed it. At times they pressed 
before us in such numbers as to delay the 
progress of our column, and often a belliger- 
ent bull would lower and shake his shaggy 
head at us as we passed him a few feet dis- 
tant. Of course our fare was principally buf- 
falo meat during this trip, and killing them 
soon ceased to be a sport. 
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