American Big-Game Hunting 



We made our camp at the mouth of a small 

 ravine that led down to the stream through 

 the bluffs, which there form its banks. Mil- 

 lions of buffalo were driven before the storm, 

 and, being prevented by the high banks 

 of the river from crossing either above or 

 below this point, were huddled together in 

 a dense mass which threatened to overwhelm 

 our little command. By placing our camp a 

 little to one side of this living tide, and under 

 the friendly shelter of the bluff, we passed the 

 night in security, while the countless horde 

 kept up its ceaseless tramp. 



For six days we continued our way through 

 this enormous herd, during the last three of 

 which it was in constant motion across our 

 path. I am safe in calling this a single herd, 

 and it is impossible to approximate the mil- 

 lions that composed it. At times they pressed 

 before us in such numbers as to delay the 

 progress of our column, and often a belliger- 

 ent bull would lower and shake his shaggy 

 head at us as we passed him a few feet dis- 

 tant. Of course our fare was principally buf- 

 falo meat during this trip, and killing them 

 soon ceased to be a sport. 



