54 THE BISOX. 



bringicg home the meat. The prah'ie wolves and the 

 buzzards scent the banquet which awaits them, when 

 the choice portions of the carcase have been removed 

 to the Indian camp, and hover about until they can 

 approach with safety to gorge themselves on bison- 

 flesh, which, on every side, plentifully litters the 

 prairie. But the beauty of the scene has vanished, 

 the flowers are trodden down by pursued and pursuers, 

 — the prairie is red with blood. 



The athletic American hunter, who pursues the 

 game for a livelihood as well as from love of sport, 

 frolics about over the prairies like a schoolboy, and 

 thoroughly enjoys a run at buftalo. Many 3'ears 

 ago (it is, perhaps, as well not to say exactly how 

 many), I made one of a party who started out to run 

 buffalo on the plains of Texas. Whatever may be the 

 date of that buffalo hunt, I shall only say that ladies 

 who were babies then are now mves and mothers. 



Fort P on the upper waters of the Brazos, was 



the name of the frontier-post of which Colonel Gr , 



an officer of Uncle Sam's dragoons, was the com- 

 mandant. The country around had once been a 

 favourite hunting-ground of the Indians, but they had 

 been compelled to give way before the adventm'ous 

 Texan settlers, and were necessitated to seek their o-ame 

 further to the north-west. It would have been very 

 difficult to imagine a more beautiful country than 

 those wide savannahs, which were here and there 



