So I Turned
And Rode About Two Hours In That Direction.
The prairie changed as I
advanced, softening away into easier undulations, but nothing like
the Platte appeared, nor any sign of a human being; the same wild
endless expanse lay around me still; and to all appearance I was as
far from my object as ever.
I began now to consider myself in danger
of being lost; and therefore, reining in my horse, summoned the
scanty share of woodcraft that I possessed (if that term he
applicable upon the prairie) to extricate me. Looking round, it
occurred to me that the buffalo might prove my best guides. I soon
found one of the paths made by them in their passage to the river; it
ran nearly at right angles to my course; but turning my horse's head
in the direction it indicated, his freer gait and erected ears
assured me that I was right.
But in the meantime my ride had been by no means a solitary one. The
whole face of the country was dotted far and wide with countless
hundreds of buffalo. They trooped along in files and columns, bulls
cows, and calves, on the green faces of the declivities in front.
They scrambled away over the hills to the right and left; and far
off, the pale blue swells in the extreme distance were dotted with
innumerable specks. Sometimes I surprised shaggy old bulls grazing
alone, or sleeping behind the ridges I ascended. They would leap up
at my approach, stare stupidly at me through their tangled manes, and
then gallop heavily away.
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