The column itself
consisted entirely of cows and calves, but a great many old bulls
were ranging about the prairie on its flank, and as I drew near they
faced toward me with such a shaggy and ferocious look that I thought
it best to proceed no farther. Indeed I was already within close
rifle-shot of the column, and I sat down on the ground to watch their
movements. Sometimes the whole would stand still, their heads all
facing one way; then they would trot forward, as if by a common
impulse, their hoofs and horns clattering together as they moved. I
soon began to hear at a distance on the left the sharp reports of a
rifle, again and again repeated; and not long after, dull and heavy
sounds succeeded, which I recognized as the familiar voice of Shaw's
double-barreled gun. When Henry's rifle was at work there was always
meat to be brought in. I went back across the river for a horse, and
returning, reached the spot where the hunters were standing. The
buffalo were visible on the distant prairie. The living had
retreated from the ground, but ten or twelve carcasses were scattered
in various directions. Henry, knife in hand, was stooping over a
dead cow, cutting away the best and fattest of the meat.
When Shaw left me he had walked down for some distance under the
river bank to find another bull. At length he saw the plains covered
with the host of buffalo, and soon after heard the crack of Henry's
rifle. Ascending the bank, he crawled through the grass, which for a
rod or two from the river was very high and rank. He had not crawled
far before to his astonishment he saw Henry standing erect upon the
prairie, almost surrounded by the buffalo. Henry was in his
appropriate element. Nelson, on the deck of the Victory, hardly felt
a prouder sense of mastery than he. Quite unconscious that any one
was looking at him, he stood at the full height of his tall, strong
figure, one hand resting upon his side, and the other arm leaning
carelessly on the muzzle of his rifle. His eyes were ranging over
the singular assemblage around him. Now and then he would select
such a cow as suited him, level his rifle, and shoot her dead; then
quietly reloading, he would resume his former position. The buffalo
seemed no more to regard his presence than if he were one of
themselves; the bulls were bellowing and butting at each other, or
else rolling about in the dust. A group of buffalo would gather
about the carcass of a dead cow, snuffing at her wounds; and
sometimes they would come behind those that had not yet fallen, and
endeavor to push them from the spot. Now and then some old bull
would face toward Henry with an air of stupid amazement, but none
seemed inclined to attack or fly from him.
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