THE BUFFALO AT BAY. INDIANS. 39 



the steed. When twenty yards distant from me, down 

 went his head, and at me he sprang. The activity of the 

 horse alone saved me ; and the shave was so close as to be 

 far from pleasant. It was a cleverly executed charge, and 

 a fitting finale to life. The impetus of his motion he was 

 unable to control. The strength of the body was unequal 

 to his courage of heart ; for, ere he could halt, over he 

 rolled to rise no more. In hunting, as in civilised life, it 

 is dangerous to trust in appearances we know how often 

 they are deceptive. But there are other dangers to be 

 apprehended on the buffalo range ; viz. the Indians, who 

 are so cunning and treacherous that the hunter must ever 

 be on his guard. The following reminiscence will illustrate 

 how even over-caution might prove dangerous to friends. 



For some days I had had a terribly hard time of it. 

 The ground had drunk its full and to spare of snow- 

 water, game was scarce and wild, and the scanty herbage 

 that my horse and mule were able to obtain since we 

 entered the plains was barely sufficient to keep them alive ; 

 still good seventy miles more had to be traversed before I 

 could reach the friendly shelter of the belt of timber that 

 surrounded the Forks. If it had been autumn, I dare not 

 have chosen this route, for it is a debatable ground of the 

 Camanche and Arrapaho, to whom a solitary white man 

 would be so tempting a morsel that he could not fail to be 

 caught, and we will not say what done to ; the very con- 

 jecture is disagreeable. The severity of the late weather, 

 therefore, was my safety ; for red- skins, no less than white 

 men, dislike unnecessary exposure. Still, I was convinced 

 some stragglers must have lately visited the neighbour- 



