THE BUFFALO. 401 
upon his back. All thought he must be killed by the fall; 
but, strangely enough, he rose immediately, shook himself, 
and a second effort in climbing proved more successful—the 
animal had not received the slightest injury ! 
By the middle of the afternoon we were all safely across, 
after passing some five or six hours completely shut out from 
the world. Again we found ourselves upon the level prairie, 
and in looking back, after proceeding some hundred yards, 
not a sign of the immense chasm was visible. The plain we 
were then upon was at least one hundred and fifty miles in 
width, and the two chasms I have mentioned were the reser- 
voirs of the heavy body of rain which falls during the wet 
season, and at the same time its conductors to the running 
streams. The prairie is undoubtedly the largest in the world, 
and the cafions are in perfect keeping with the size of the 
prairie. Whether the waters which run into them sink into 
them, or find their way to the Canadian, is a matter of 
unsertainty—but I am inclined to believe the latter is the 
case. 
This description is accurate as the language is striking—no 
language, indeed, can fully convey the sudden appal with which 
this gaping waste of piled and torn immensity fills one coming 
upon it for the first time. It forms a stern and most charac- 
teristic feature of these dreary steppes, that climb through 
thousands of miles by imperceptible slopes towards the white 
soaring crests of the Rocky Mountain chain. 
The buffalo trails leading from every conceivable direction 
to centre at the far separated crossing places, are, most 
probably, as old as the face of the continent, and are 
frequently themselves worn into deep and impracticable 
gullies, as you approach the point of convergence, by the 
tramp of myriad hoofs through unrecorded centuries. 
Nothing more strongly indicates the fatuitous recklessness 
of the Indian tribes, whose sole dependence is upon this 
animal, than the constant recurrence of such wanton and 
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