For Some Time Shaw Lay
Among The Grass, Looking In Surprise At This Extraordinary Sight; At
Length He Crawled Cautiously Forward, And Spoke In A Low Voice To
Henry, Who Told Him To Rise And Come On.
Still the buffalo showed no
sign of fear; they remained gathered about their dead companions.
Henry had already killed as many cows as we wanted for use, and Shaw,
kneeling behind one of the carcasses, shot five bulls before the rest
thought it necessary to disperse.
The frequent stupidity and infatuation of the buffalo seems the more
remarkable from the contrast it offers to their wildness and wariness
at other times. Henry knew all their peculiarities; he had studied
them as a scholar studies his books, and he derived quite as much
pleasure from the occupation. The buffalo were a kind of companions
to him, and, as he said, he never felt alone when they were about
him. He took great pride in his skill in hunting. Henry was one of
the most modest of men; yet, in the simplicity and frankness of his
character, it was quite clear that he looked upon his pre-eminence in
this respect as a thing too palpable and well established ever to be
disputed. But whatever may have been his estimate of his own skill,
it was rather below than above that which others placed upon it. The
only time that I ever saw a shade of scorn darken his face was when
two volunteer soldiers, who had just killed a buffalo for the first
time, undertook to instruct him as to the best method of
"approaching." To borrow an illustration from an opposite side of
life, an Eton boy might as well have sought to enlighten Porson on
the formation of a Greek verb, or a Fleet Street shopkeeper to
instruct Chesterfield concerning a point of etiquette. Henry always
seemed to think that he had a sort of prescriptive right to the
buffalo, and to look upon them as something belonging peculiarly to
himself. Nothing excited his indignation so much as any wanton
destruction committed among the cows, and in his view shooting a calf
was a cardinal sin.
Henry Chatillon and Tete Rouge were of the same age; that is, about
thirty. Henry was twice as large, and fully six times as strong as
Tete Rouge. Henry's face was roughened by winds and storms; Tete
Rouge's was bloated by sherry cobblers and brandy toddy. Henry
talked of Indians and buffalo; Tete Rouge of theaters and oyster
cellars. Henry had led a life of hardship and privation; Tete Rouge
never had a whim which he would not gratify at the first moment he
was able. Henry moreover was the most disinterested man I ever saw;
while Tete Rouge, though equally good-natured in his way, cared for
nobody but himself. Yet we would not have lost him on any account;
he admirably served the purpose of a jester in a feudal castle; our
camp would have been lifeless without him.
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