202 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
some choice garden had been stripped of its inclosures : 
shrubbery waves the pendant blossom, and wastes a 
world of sweetness on the desert air. Among these 
flowery coverts browse the graceful deer and antelope. 
Far before you are the long dark lines of the buffalo. 
In the centre of the group feed the cows and calves. 
Upon the outside are the sturdy bulls: some with their 
mouths to the ground, are making it shake with their 
rough roar ; others sportively tear up the turf with their 
horns; others not less playful, rush upon each other’s 
horns with a force that sends them reeling on their 
sides. 
Animal enjoyment seems rife, and as they turn their 
nostrils upwards and snuff in the balmy air and greet the 
warm sun, they little dream that around them are cire- 
ling the wild Indian, wilder—more savage—and more 
wary, than themselves. 
Fancy these Indians prompted by all the habits and 
feelings of the hunter and warrior, mingling with the sport 
the desire to distinguish themselves, as on a field of 
honor, little less only in importance than the war-path. 
With characters of high repute to sustain, or injured 
reputations to build up—of victory for the ear of love 
—of jealousy—of base passions—and a thirst of blood, 
and you will have some idea of the promptings of the 
hearts of those about to engage in the chase. 
The time arrives. The parties already out, are driv- 
ing the herd towards the starting-place of the warriors. 
