INDIAN PEOWESS. 49 



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breeze, while the game little horse which the Indian 

 bestrides, gains upon the uncouth creature at every 

 step. The warrior is a strong man, with sinewy arms 

 and shoulders, on which the muscles are as plainly 

 developed as in a piece of sculpture. 



The Indian draws an arrow from his quiver, fits it to 

 his bowstring, and then releases it on its deadly mission. 

 In an instant it pierces through the heart of the huo-e 

 game. At the moment when the feathered shaft flew, 

 the warrior's left leg was pressed to his horse's side, 

 and the well-trained animal instantly, as the bowstring 

 twanged, obeyed the signal and turned round to the 

 right so suddenly, that a rider unaccustomed to buffalo 

 hunting would certainly have been thrown from his 

 seat. 



The Indian, however, has practised that stratagem 

 for 3^ears past, though in the present instance there is 

 no charge to avoid. The huge bull staggers, and falls 

 heavily forward to the earth — the blood gushing in 

 torrents from mouth and nostrils, as well as from the 

 arrow-wound in his side. The warrior then sends up 

 his triumphant shout, ending with a long quaver, 

 sounding like — how-how-poo-oo-oo-ah ; and, having 

 thus proclaimed his success, presses both legs to the 

 side of his steed, and starts off to single out and slay 

 some new victim. 



For the animal just killed he has no care. 'No other 

 warrior will claim the spoils of the dead — for the 



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