THE BISON 179 



Upon one occasion, when I was in full chase after a 

 small herd (a section of a much larger herd which ex- 

 tended for miles), the animals headed for an almost per- 

 pendicular cliff, one hundred feet or more in height, 

 which overhung a little river-valley. The surface of 

 the cliff was loose, alkaline earth; no grass grew upon 

 the steep incline; only a few shrubs of the wild sage 

 clung to its sides. Over this cliff the buffaloes plunged 

 headlong and went racing or sliding down to the val- 

 ley below, kicking up a cloud of dust which almost 

 concealed them from view. I drew rein at the brink, 

 and seeking an easier place, attempted the descent on 

 foot, driving my horse on ahead, since there was great 

 danger of his falling. Sliding slowly down, grasping 

 at every bush, I at length reached the bottom, but the 

 buffaloes were miles away and still going at top speed. 

 It was useless to follow them. 



My first buffalo-hunt was somewhat inglorious (I re- 

 fer to the second day of the hunt, when I killed my first 

 buffalo). I had ample opportunity, however, to learn 

 something of the chase and to study the habits of the 

 animals at very close range. My vantage-ground was 

 much closer, in fact, than I would have selected had the 

 choice been left to me. A showy but unruly cavalry- 

 horse, laboring under much the same excitement as 

 that affecting his rider when Ave made the charge, was 

 unwilling to keep to the outer edge of the herd and 

 pushed on in among the scattered animals. Before long 

 he dispensed with my services and left me in the grass 

 while he Hed onward, kicking viciously at the buffaloes 

 and endeavoring to relieve himself of the saddle. 



I was travelling on this occasion up the valley of the 



