472 REPORT OF NATIONAL MUSEUM, 1887. 



can see the ground, which may be rough and broken, or perforated with 

 prairie-dog or gopher holes. This danger is so imminent, that a man 

 who runs into a herd of buffalo may be said to take his life in his hand. 

 I have never known a man hurt by a buffalo in such a chase. I have 

 known of at least six killed, and a very great many more or less injured, 

 some very severely, by their horses falling with them." 



On this point Catlin declares that to engage in running buffalo is 

 " at the hazard of every bone in one's body, to feel the fine and thrilling 

 exhilaration of the chase for a moment, and then as often to upbraid and 

 blame himself for his folly and imprudence." 



Previous to my first experience in "running buffalo" I had enter- 

 tained a mortal dread of ever being called upon to ride a chase across a 

 prairie-dog town. The mouth of a prairie-dog's burrow is amply large 

 to receive the hoof of a horse, and the angle at which the hole descends 

 into the earth makes it just right for the leg of a running horse to 

 plunge into up to the knee and bring down both horse and rider in- 

 stantly ; the former with a broken leg, to say the least of it. If the rider 

 sits loosely, and promptly resigns his seat, he will go flying forward, as 

 if thrown from a catapult, for 20 feet or so, perhaps to escape with a 

 few broken bones, and perhaps to have his neck broken, or his skull 

 fractured on the hard earth. If he sticks tightly to his saddle, his horse 

 is almost certain to fall upon him, and perhaps kill him. Judge, then, 

 my feelings when the first bunch of buffalo we started headed straight 

 across the largest prairie-dog town I had ever seen up to that time. 

 And not only was the ground honey-combed with gaping round holes, 

 but it was also crossed here and there by treacherous ditch-like gullies, 

 cut straight down into the earth to an uncertain depth, and so narrow 

 as to be invisible until it was almost time to leap across them. 



But at such a time, with the game thundering along a few rods in ad- 

 vance, the hunter thinks of little else except getting up to it. He looks 

 as far ahead as possible, and helps his horse to avoid dangers, but to a 

 great extent the horse must guide himself. The rider plies his spurs 

 and looks eagerly forward, almost feverish with excitement and eager- 

 ness, but at the same time if he is wise he expects a fall, and holds him- 

 self in readiness to take the ground with as little damage as he can. 



Mr. Catlin gives a most graphic description of a hunting accident, 

 which may fairly be quoted in fall as a type of many such. I must say 

 that I fully sympathize with M. Chardon in his estimate of the hard- 

 ness of the ground he fell upon, for I have a painful recollection of a fall 

 1 had from which I arose with the settled conviction that the ground in 

 Montana is the hardest in the world ! It seemed more like falling upon 

 cast-iron than prairie turf. 



"I dashed along through the thundering mass as they swept away 

 over the plain, scarcely able to tell whether I was on a buffalo's back 

 or my horse, hit and hooked and jostled about, till at length I found 

 myself alongside my game, when I gave him a shot as I passed him. 



