306 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
er 
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 
T am within thirty yards of the hindmost, when a young 
Indian mounted ona beautiful, but evidently untrained 
horse, passes me and inafew 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 soonas 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. 
AsI proceed Iam 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 tocamp. Almost all the company have crossed when 
we hear ashrill 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 ata 
height of not more than twenty yards, becomes a target 
for all the loose articlesin the camp. The air is positively 
darkened by the cloud of arrows, whips, sticks and hatch- 
ets that are projected at this unlucky bird. Noone seenis 
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 asudden 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. Ata given signal they 
started off, at first on a slow trot, but gradually increasing 
their speed until the trot became a canter and the cantera 
swift gallop. 
At the first movement in the camp Lute had notified us 
of what would take place, and we had saddled up and leay- 
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 asingle 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 isin 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 upto 
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 imanifested. The Indians discharging arrow after arrow 
in quick succession, ere long bring down the huge beasts and 
then turnand 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. 
—_—_—_— So 
—Secure presents for Christmas and New Years’, by sub- 
scribing to the FoREsT AND StREAm. See advertisement, 
A CRUISE TO WINDWARD. 

BY J. NEWTON WILSON. 
i —_——-— 
HE 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 avery 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 
ern 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 thedeck. 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 
beavties 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 ona 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. HereI 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 fellew, 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. Thisislandis 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, und 
form the chief portion of the business community. Some 
extensive general stores adorn the wide street that ranges 
. 


