SCENES IN BUFFALO HUNTING. 217 



imated specimen of the monsters of the antediluvian 

 world. 



Rising on his fore legs, he shook his mane and 

 beard in defiance, and flashed from his eyes an uncon- 

 querable determination terrible to behold. 



Gazing upwards, we beheld, fearfully caricatured, 

 the shaggy trappings of the lion, and the wild fierceness 

 of a perfect savage, the whole rising above us in huge 

 unwieldy proportions. He made no demonstration of 

 attack, his usual expression of defiance had changed into 

 that of seeming regret and heartsick pain ; his small 

 bright eye roamed over the beautiful prairie, and 

 watched the retreating herds of his fellows, as would 

 an old patriarch when about to bid adieu to the world ; 

 and as the dying creature gazed on, the tear struggled 

 in his eye, rolled over the rough sunburnt hair, dashed 

 like a bright jewel from his knolK;ed beard, and fell to 

 the ground. 



This exhibition of sufi'criiig iititure cooled the warm 

 blood of the hunt within me ; the instinct of destruction 

 was, for the time, overpowered by that of better feelings, 

 and could we have restored to health the wounded ani- 

 mal, it would have given us a thrill of real pleasure to 

 have seen him again free, and bounding over the plain. 



Instead of this, we took from our belt a pistol, called 

 upon mercy to sanction our deed, and sent the cold lead 

 through the thoughtful eye into the brain : the body 

 sank u])on its kuoi-s. in r«':idy aoknowledgment of the 



