214 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
ceit of drawing a deadly weapon upon a thing as small 
as a woodcock, that the wild, half devil, and half Indian 
horses on which we were mounted, pricked up their ears 
and tails, as if they expected that the next salute would 
be the war-whoop and a fight. 
Ahead of us we beheld the buzzards, circling in 
groups, whirling down in aerial flights to the earth, as 
if busy with their prey. We passed them at their gross 
repast over a mountain of meat, which had, the day be- 
fore, been full of life and fire, but had fallen under the 
visitation of our guides and scarecrows; and provided 
the very steaks that had met with so little affection from 
our appetites. Soon we discovered signs of immediate 
vicinity of the buffalo, and on a little examination from 
the top of a “swell of land,’ we saw them feeding off 
towards the horizon, like vast herds of cattle quietly 
grazing within the inclosure of the farm-yard. 
As distant as they were, our hearts throbbed violently 
as we contemplated the sanguinary warfare we were 
about to engage in, and the waste of life that would 
ensue. 
Still, we were impelled on by an irresistible and 
overpowering instinct to begin the hunt. 
“Breeches” and “ Bags” carried over their shoulders 
poles about six feet long; but as they were destitute of 
any visible spear, we looked upon them as inoffensive 
weapons, and concluded that they had come out just to 
act as guides. In fact, we could not imagine that such 
