BUFFALO HUNTING. 203 
They have sent up their war-cry in one united whoop, 
which has startled the feeding monsters, as if the light- 
ning had fallen among them. With a bellowing re- 
spouse the buffalo shake their heads, and simultaneously 
start off. 
The fearful whoop meets them at every point. Con- 
fusion seizes upon the herd. The sport has begun. 
In every direction you see the unequal chase; the 
Indians seem multiplied into hundreds; the plain be- 
comes dotted over with the dying animals, and the whoop 
rings in continuous shouts upon the air, as if the fiends 
themselves were loose. 
Now you see a single warrior : before him is rushing 
a buffalo, which shows from his immense size, that he 
is one of the masters of the herd; his pursuer is a 
veteran hunter, known far and near for his prowess. 
Yonder go some twenty buffalos of every size, pur- 
sued by three or four tyros, who yet know not the art of 
separating their victim from the herd. 
Yonder goes a bull, twice shot at, yet only wounded 
in the flesh—some one will have to gather wood with 
the women for his want of skill. 
There goes an old chief: his leggins are trimmed 
with the hair of twenty scalps, taken from the heads of 
the very Indians on whose grounds he was hunting buf- 
falo; he is a great warrior; he sings, that his bow un- 
bent is a great tree, which he alone can bend. See the 
naked arm, and the rigid muscles, as he draws the arrow 
