The Last of the Plainsmen 



haggard and worn companions scorned his discovery. 

 Adams siding with Rude, who knew the plains, said : 

 &quot; Mirage! the lure of the desert! &quot; Yet dominated 

 by a force too powerful for them to resist, they fol 

 lowed the buffalo-hunter. All day the gleaming lake 

 beckoned them onward, and seemed to recede. All 

 day the drab clouds scudded before the cold north 

 wind. In the gray twilight, the lake suddenly lay 

 before them, as if it had opened at their feet. The 

 men rejoiced, the horses lifted their noses and sniffed 

 the damp air. 



The whinnies of the horses, the clank of harness, 

 and splash of water, the whirr of ducks did not blur 

 out of Jones s keen ear a sound that made him jump. 

 It was the thump of hoofs, in a familiar beat,, beat, 

 beat. He saw a shadow moving up a ridge. Soon, 

 outlined black against the yet light sky, a lone buffalo 

 cow stood like a statue. A moment she held toward 

 the lake, studying the danger, then went out of sight 

 over the ridge. 



Jones spurred his horse up the ascent, which was 

 rather long and steep, but he mounted the summit in 

 time to see the cow join eight huge, shaggy buffalo. 

 The hunter reined in his horse, and standing high in 

 his stirrups, held his hat at arms length over his 

 head. So he thrilled to a moment he had sought for 

 two years. The last herd of American bison was 



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