306 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



noble animal is surrounded. He hesitates, stops, and then 

 makes a bold dash at the weakest point in the circle, but 

 ere he reaches it three or four arrows pierce him and he 

 turns again. The circle grows smaller, and again he makes 

 an effort to break it, but his strength is gone, he staggers 

 and comes to his knees. Vain are all his efforts, the knife 

 is at his throat, and with a groan he yields up his life ; and 

 in a few minutes naught remains to mark the spot where 

 the beautiful creature fell save his horns and a few 

 polished bones that shine white in the morning sun. 



A little later, distant shouts great our ears and attract our 

 attention to another quarter. As we gaze in the direction 

 of the sounds we see the huge forms of thirty or forty buf- 

 falo appearing over a bluff but a few hundred yards away. 

 Again the better mounted riders spur out from the line, 

 this time myself among the number. The buffalo see us, 

 stop, and then separate and flee in wild confusion. Half 

 a dozen Indians and myself start after part of them and 

 follow at a full run as they dash madly down a steep ravine 

 throwing up dense clouds of dust in their furious career. 

 As we near the small stream into which the ravine empties 

 I am within thirty yards of the hindmost, when a young 

 Indian mounted on a beautiful, but evidently untrained 

 horse, passes me and in a few jumps is alongside of the 

 game. He discharges an arrow, but before he has time to 

 do more his horse, terrified by the enormous bull, carries 

 him by, and the latter becomes now the pursuer. I put 

 spurs to my horse and as soon as I get within easy distance, 

 fire and the ball entering near the root of the tail ranges 

 diagonally forward and comes out at the shoulder. The 

 huge beast drops to the shot and I pull up to examine my 

 first buffalo. I marvel at his monstrous size and vast 

 strength, and admire his massive horns and hoofs, which 

 shine like polished ebony, and his shaggy head with its 

 impenetrable shield of hair, hide and bone ; and as the In- 

 dians prepare to skin the game I remount and ride off, mus- 

 ing sadly upon the future of the Indian and the buffalo. 



As I proceed I am joined by several returning hunters 

 laden with spoil. The red meat neatly sliced from the 

 bones, is piled high behind the riders, and the crimson 

 drops which trickle from it color the flanks of the horses, 

 already wet from their sharp exercise. My companions 

 chatter and laugh in high glee at their success, and we con- 

 verse as well as we can by means of signs and broken sen- 

 tences of Pawnee and English. "We reach the main 

 body, and the bloody loads are handed over to the squaws 

 and by them transferred to the backs of the much enduring 

 pack animals, the march is resumed and we do not halt 

 agan until near noon, when we cross a small creek and pre- 

 pare to camp. Almost all the company have crossed when 

 we hear a shrill chorus of yells and a great fluttering of 

 wings, and perceive that the foremost of the ' 'skirmishers" 

 have come upon a band of wild turkeys. Several are killed 

 with clubs, and the rest seek safety, some by running and 

 others by flight. One of the latter passing over us at a 

 height of not more than twenty yards, becomes a target 

 for all the loose articles in the camp. The air is positively 

 darkened by the cloud of arrows, whips, sticks and hatch- 

 ets that are projected at this unlucky bird. No one seems 

 to care what his missile hits when it comes down, or 

 whether he loses it or not, if he can only get that turkey. 

 The latter sustains no more serious injury than the loss of 

 a few feathers and manages to prolong his flight until he 

 reaches the outskirts of the crowd. There he alights, how- 

 ever, and is immediately pounced upon and torn to pieces 

 by the excited boys. 



All hands having crossed, a spot is chosen where the 

 creek bottom is wide enough to accomodate the whole 

 company, and camp is made. The animals are unpacked 

 and picketed out to feed ; the lodges are set up ; a hundred 

 thin columns of smoke denote the existence of as many 

 fires. Some of the squaws hurry away up and down the 

 creek and soon return laden with wood and water, others 

 plant poles upright in the ground and throwing the fresh 

 hides over them commence the tedious operation of scraping 

 off the flesh and fat that still adheres to them. Part of the 

 men ride out toward the bluffs, so as to be the first to re- 

 ceive the news, if any thing is reported by the scouts, and 

 a few lounge about our wagon, but by far the greatest 

 number are in their lodges eating their midday meal. 



We had been in camp two hours or more and were lazily 

 reclining under the wagon, when a sudden bustle among the 

 Indians attracted our attention, and on looking out toward 

 the bluffs we saw a horseman riding hard for camp, while 

 the men that he passed shouted and gesticulated in great 

 excitement. On reaching the lodges the rider halted near 

 a group of the chief men and spoke a few words to them. 

 He then rode off again, and after a short consultation some 

 order was given, and in ten minutes the lodges were down 

 and packed and a part of the company were flying off 

 down the creek. Only the women and children, however. 

 While the packing was being done the men had moved the 

 saddles and bridles from their horses, substituting for the 

 latter a strip of raw hide around the lower jaw. They had 

 also stripped off their own clothing and stood forth as 

 naked as when they came into the world, save for a breech 

 clout and a pair of moccasins apiece. Their bows and 

 arrows they held in their hands. At a given signal they 

 started off, at first on a slow trot, but gradually increasing 

 their 6peed until the trot became a canter and the canter a 

 swift gallop. 



At the first movement in the camp Lute had notified us 

 of what would take place, and we had saddled up and leav- 

 ing all our superfluous articles in the wagon had made 

 ready to start. The wild gallop over the prairie with that 

 excited multitude was an experience calculated to impress 



itself indelibly upon the memory, and I shall never for- 

 get it. 



The band was at first widely scattered, but as we pro- 

 ceeded the ranks closed up and it became more eompact. 

 Many of the Indians leading their horses, advance on foot, 

 keeping well up with the mounted men. Here and there 

 I see two of them mounted on a single horse and leading 

 two others; the former will be turned loose when we ap- 

 proach the buffalo and its riders will make their hunt on 

 fresh horses.* 



On we go, mile after mile, and still no sign of halting. At 

 times the pace is slackened as we ascend some high bluff, 

 and one or two of the leaders cautiously peer over it to see 

 if the game is in sight. In front of the line ride at regular 

 intervals the "Pawnee Police" so called, whose duty it is 

 to restrain the more ardent, and those whose horses are 

 fastest, until the charge is made ; so that the game may not 

 be frightened too soon, and so that all may have an equal 

 ehance at it. Very deliberately they advance, checking 

 their impatient ponies. which snuff the chase and are eager 

 to commence it. Sometimes a restive horse carries his 

 rider too far forward and the latter is sternly warned back 

 by the nearest of the leaders. And woe to the luckless 

 wight that fails to heed such a warning. The power of 

 the "Police" is absolute during the hunt, and if an order is 

 disobeyed or neglected by the delinquent, be he white or 

 red, of high degree or low, may be knocked off his horse 

 with a club and beaten into submission without receiving 

 any sympathy even from his best friends. 



Six, eight, ten miles have been passed over when a brief 

 halt is made. The game is in sight, and when I ride up to 

 the top of the high bluff where the leaders are congregated, 

 I see on the prairie four or five miles away clusters of dark 

 spots that I know must be the buffalo. Presently we start 

 again and change our course so that a range of bluffs con- 

 ceals the game. By this time all the Indians have mounted 

 and are pressing as close behind the "Police" as they dare. 

 The wet flanks of the ponies glisten in the declining sun, 

 and dashes of white foam flake their breasts as with out- 

 stretched necks and ears thrown forward they gallop along, 

 showing as much excitement as their riders. The latter sit 

 their animals like Centaurs, their long hair streaming out 

 behind them and lifting at every jump of the horses. 



At length we reach the top of the last ridge and see the 

 buffalo lying down in the creek bottom a mile beyond. 

 The place could not have been more favorable for a sur- 

 round had it been chosen for the purpose. A plain two 

 miles broad and intersected by a narrow stream, is encir- 

 cled by high bluffs up which the buffalo must ' toil slowly, 

 but which the more nimble ponies can ascend almost as fast 

 as they can run on level ground. As we commence to de- 

 scend the face of the bluff, the pace is slightly accelerated. 

 The Indians at either extremity of the line press forward, 

 and its contour is now crescent like. Men and horses com- 

 mence to evince more excitement, but the five hundred buf- 

 faloes reposing below us do not seem to notice our advance. 

 A few wiley old bulls, however, that occupy the tops of 

 the lower bluffs, take the alarm and commence to scud off 

 over the hills. At last when we are within half a mile of 

 the ruminating herd a few of them rise to their feet, and 

 soon all spring up and stare at us for a few seconds ; then 

 down go their heads and in a dense mass they rush off to- 

 ward the bluffs. As they rise to their feet the leaders of 

 our party give the signal, and each man puts his horse to 

 its utmost speed. The fastest horses are soon among the 

 last of the buffalo, but still their riders push forward to try 

 and turn the leaders of the herd and drive them back into 

 the plain. This they in part accomplish, and soon the bot- 

 tom is covered with the flying animals. They dash madly 

 along and the trained horses keep close to the buffalo with- 

 out any guidance, yet watch constantly for any indication 

 of an intention to charge and wheel off, if such intention 

 is imanif ested. The Indians discharging arrow after arrow 

 in quick succession, ere long bring down the huge beasts and 

 then turn and ride off after another. 



Lute, Jim, and myself each shoot three or four and then 

 we come together on a little hill that overlooks the valley 

 and become spectators of the scene. Soon the chase is 

 ended, and the plain is dotted with dark objects over each 

 of which bend two or three Indians busily engaged in se- 

 curing the meat. Every ounce of this will be saved, and 

 what is not eaten while fresh, will be jerked and thus pre- 

 served for consumption during the winter. How different 

 would have been the course of a party of white hunters had 

 they the same opportunity. They would have killed as 

 many animals, but would have left all but enough for one 

 day's use to be devoured by the wolves or to rot upon the 

 prairie. 



As we ride slowly back Lute beguiles the way by relating 

 to us some of the traditions of the Pawnees, to which we 

 lend an attentive ear. Camp reached and supper over, we 

 turn our attention to the Indians. There is great rejoic- 

 ing among the company to-night. Some roast the delicious 

 hump ribs, and some broil the heart and liver. Many stuff 

 the intestines with fragments of the tenderloin and boil 

 them, thus obtaining a most delicate soup, and others take 

 the great marrow bones and greedily feast upon the luscious 

 contents. And so the evening wears away, passed by our 

 little party in the curious contemplation of a phase of life 

 that is becoming more and more rare as the years roll by, 

 and by the Indians in feasting and merriment, and when at 

 last we seek our couches and drop off to sleep, the Pawnees 

 are still pegging away at the buffalo meat right manfully. 



Ornis. 

 «»♦»» 



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A CRUISE TO WINDWARD. 



BY J. NEWTON WILSON. 



THE British flag was gracefully floating over the dark 

 walls of Fort Charlotte one breezy morning as we 

 quietly glided from the harbor of Nassau, bound for a trad- 

 ing voyage to Turk's Island and other small seaports lying 

 in our track. Our craft was a very fine Bahama wrecker, 

 of schooner rig and clipper-like appearance. Her tall, 

 tapering spars bespoke for her somewhat the appearance of 

 a slaver, which in truth she had been at one time. We 

 were not many hours in rounding the eastern shores of 

 New Providence, and ere the sun had set below the west 

 era coral hills the silvery islands were rapidly vanishing 

 from our view. I kept the deck till eight bells were struck, 

 and then went below, leaving the pilot and mate in charge 

 of the watch. I sprang into my bunk and flew to the land 

 of dreams, nor did my eyes wink again till the loud clang 

 of the breakfast bell caused me to arouse myself and par- 

 take of the savory turtle stew that was neatly served up to 

 the table by a Spanish darkey. After doing ample justice 

 to this favorite West India dish, I lighted a cigar, and tak- 

 ing my cup of steaming coffee proceeded to the deck. The 

 morning was balmy and refreshing in the extreme. No 

 land was visible, but close on our starboard were to be seen 

 the snowy sails of sponging sloops. Our little vessel was 

 dancing prettily over the foaming waters, for the wind was 

 fine and free. Flying fish darted from the blue depths of 

 the sea, and, as it were, played tag for an hour. Towards 

 noon a negro from aloft cried "Land ho," which soon ap- 

 peared on our lee, when we gave free sheet to the flowing 

 sails, and a narrow neck of land loomed before us, and the 

 beauties of habitation greeted our eyes, and noon found us 



anchored at Long Cay. Here I had letters to a Mr. F , 



a gentleman much esteemed by the natives of the Bahamas. 

 He was one of those jolly, good-hearted fellows that I have 

 met with once and a while through life. His dwelling was 

 a delightful and cozy little stone building, surrounded by a 

 latticed piazza, and being on a hill overlooked the broad 

 ocean before it. My host's good wife made me feel per- 

 fectly at home. % 



One morning my friend saddled two Cuban mustangs, 

 and we rode on these spirited little animals for miles away 

 to the extensive salt lakes. This was a novel scene, the 

 waters covering as much ground apparently as Loch Lom- 

 ond, New Brunswick, and of a blood-like color. These 

 ponds, as they are styled, are divided into numerous small 

 spaces by low stone walls, and are called pans. Here the 

 waters, which are not six inches deep, become curdled by 

 strong dry winds, and the salt is then raked by the natives 

 in heaps, and after being thoroughly bleached and drained 

 is wheeled in hand barrows to the margin of the lake, and 

 is then carted by mules to the place of shipment. 



After transacting my business at this place I hastened 

 on board my vessel, and soon we were running along before 

 the trade winds towards the island of Ineagua, and arrived 

 at Matthew Town next day. Here I sold more of>my goods, 

 and passed a pleasant evening at the residence of the Amer- 

 ican consul. The houses at this town were nearly all of 

 stone, with latticed balconies adorning those of the Gov- 

 ernment officials and some others. It presents quite a lively 

 appearance from the sea, and its custom-house officials, 

 who are as black as the eyes of "Black-eyed Susan," dress 

 most stylishly. Polished brass buttons and fine navy blue 

 gave them an appearance that would invite all nations to 

 respect the officials of Her British Majesty's Government. 

 Here I found a stout, genial old allopathic doctor. He was 

 a liberal fellow, and was never known to throw a drop of 

 good grog over his shoulder. 



One morning, with the thermometer at about ninety-two, 

 we started, gun in hand, among the flamingoes. We 

 knocked over some young ones as they flew in line like a 

 body of English red coats charging bayonets. Their red- 

 dish feathers would have added fair stock to a millinery 

 establishment, and, like the Ashantee warriors, their beaks 

 or noses were Romanish, their legs and necks long, but 

 withal muscular and full of vitality. There is plenty of 

 game in the West Indies, and I have often bagged enough 

 to reward a hard day's toil, among which was the stilt 

 plover, pigeon, snipe, common quail, ring-tailed dove, and 

 last and best of all, the gaulding. This bird is about the 

 size of a bantam hen, and flits among the mangrove trees 

 in lagoons and swashes just before dark. 



We again set sail, and shaped our course over the Cayas 

 Banks for Turk's Island, our destination. The scenery *in 

 crossing the limpid waters of these shoals is of the most 

 romantic character. For more more than a hundred miles 

 can plainly be seen the bottom of the sea. Countless num- 

 bers of fish might be observed swimming busily among the 

 sponges, near which exquisite shells were strewed, but sud- 

 denly the dark form of a murderous shark rushes forward, 

 and they dart for safety beneath some friendly coral ledge. 

 After crossing these banks we hauled aft our sheets and 

 stood for Turk's Island passage, and were soon moored 

 near the Grand Turk, or king of the West India salt isl- 

 ands. This island is nothing more than a barren rock. 

 The vast mounds of salt along its shores remind the north- 

 erner of the snow covered hills of his native land in win- 

 ter. About one eighth of the population are white, and 

 form the chief portioji of the business community. Some 

 extensive general stores adorn the wide street that range* 



