AMOS DECKER. 351 



had been killed by seventeen men! But they were not 

 all choice beeves, and then only the forequarters with the 

 hump rib were to be taken back, for those and the 

 tongues were the choice parts. If time permitted, they 

 would all be skinned, and the wolves would put a polish 

 on the bones. 



I had been greatly impressed by that pigeon slaughter 

 which Cooper relates in one of the "Leather Stocking" 

 tales, where the people loaded a cannon and brought 

 down hundreds at a shot, while Natty protested, killed 

 one pigeon for his own use and went his way. That's a 

 good thing for a boy to read; it had its effect on me all 

 through life. It's the fashion to sneer at Cooper, and 

 say that there never were any such Indians as his. That 

 may be so, but it's the fault of the Indians. I like Coop- 

 er's Indians, but the real thing, with the dirt and vermin- 

 laden blanket, "Faugh! an ounce of civet, good apothe- 

 cary, to sweeten my imagination." 



We will pass over the disgusting detail of skinning 

 and loading up. Six skins fell to Warren and me, and 

 several forequarters and tongues. That's all there is of 

 our hunt. The party was a most uninteresting one, de- 

 void of intelligence and consequently of humor. Amos 

 and Warren were the only two whose company was en- 

 durable on this, my first and only buffalo hunt. If my 

 friend of later years, old Nessmuk, had been there he 

 would have agreed with me, and in his fondness for par- 

 ody might have said : 



"Better fifty shots at woodcock 

 Than ten tons of buffalo." 



I learned that the hide of a buffalo bull was not worth 

 taking, because the hair was thin or absent on the hind- 



