The Last of the Buffalo 



dust that sometimes obscures the wester- 

 ing sun. 



Life, activity, excitement, mark another 

 memory as vivid as these. From behind 

 a near hill, mounted men ride out, and 

 charge down toward the herd. For an 

 instant the buffalo pause to stare, and then 

 crowd together in a close throng, jostling 

 and pushing each other, a confused mass 

 of horns, hair, and hoofs. Heads down 

 and tails in air, they rush away from their 

 pursuers ; and as they race along herd joins 

 herd, till the black mass sweeping over 

 the prairie numbers thousands. On its 

 skirts hover the active, nimble horsemen, 

 with twanging bowstrings and sharp ar- 

 rows piercing many fat cows. The naked 

 Indians cling to their naked horses as if 

 the two were parts of one incomparable 

 animal, and swing and yield to every mo- 

 tion of their steeds with the grace of per- 

 fect horsemanship. The ponies, as quick 

 and skilful as the men, race up beside the 

 fattest of the herd, swing off to avoid the 

 charge of a maddened cow, and returning, 

 dart close to the victim, whirling hither 

 and yon, like swallows on the wing. And 

 their riders, with the unconscious skill, 

 grace, and power of matchless archery, are 

 drawing their bows to the arrow's head, 

 203 



