The Two Bulls Walked Slowly On, Heavily Swinging From Side To
Side In Their Peculiar Gait Of Stupid Dignity.
They approached
within four or five rods of the ravine where the Indians lay in
ambush.
Here at last they seemed conscious that something was wrong,
for they both stopped and stood perfectly still, without looking
either to the right or to the left. Nothing of them was to be seen
but two huge black masses of shaggy mane, with horns, eyes, and nose
in the center, and a pair of hoofs visible at the bottom. At last
the more intelligent of them seemed to have concluded that it was
time to retire. Very slowly, and with an air of the gravest and most
majestic deliberation, he began to turn round, as if he were
revolving on a pivot. Little by little his ugly brown side was
exposed to view. A white smoke sprang out, as it were from the
ground; a sharp report came with it. The old bull gave a very
undignified jump and galloped off. At this his comrade wheeled about
with considerable expedition. The other Indian shot at him from the
ravine, and then both the bulls were running away at full speed,
while half the juvenile population of the village raised a yell and
ran after them. The first bull was soon stopped, and while the crowd
stood looking at him at a respectable distance, he reeled and rolled
over on his side. The other, wounded in a less vital part, galloped
away to the hills and escaped.
In half an hour it was totally dark. I lay down to sleep, and ill as
I was, there was something very animating in the prospect of the
general hunt that was to take place on the morrow.
CHAPTER XV
THE HUNTING CAMP
Long before daybreak the Indians broke up their camp. The women of
Mene-Seela's lodge were as usual among the first that were ready for
departure, and I found the old man himself sitting by the embers of
the decayed fire, over which he was warming his withered fingers, as
the morning was very chilly and damp. The preparations for moving
were even more confused and disorderly than usual. While some
families were leaving the ground the lodges of others were still
standing untouched. At this old Mene-Seela grew impatient, and
walking out to the middle of the village stood with his robe wrapped
close around him, and harangued the people in a loud, sharp voice.
Now, he said, when they were on an enemy's hunting-grounds, was not
the time to behave like children; they ought to be more active and
united than ever. His speech had some effect. The delinquents took
down their lodges and loaded their pack horses; and when the sun
rose, the last of the men, women, and children had left the deserted
camp.
This movement was made merely for the purpose of finding a better and
safer position. So we advanced only three or four miles up the
little stream, before each family assumed its relative place in the
great ring of the village, and all around the squaws were actively at
work in preparing the camp. But not a single warrior dismounted from
his horse. All the men that morning were mounted on inferior
animals, leading their best horses by a cord, or confiding them to
the care of boys. In small parties they began to leave the ground
and ride rapidly away over the plains to the westward. I had taken
no food that morning, and not being at all ambitious of further
abstinence, I went into my host's lodge, which his squaws had erected
with wonderful celerity, and sat down in the center, as a gentle hint
that I was hungry. A wooden bowl was soon set before me, filled with
the nutritious preparation of dried meat called pemmican by the
northern voyagers and wasna by the Dakota. Taking a handful to break
my fast upon, I left the lodge just in time to see the last band of
hunters disappear over the ridge of the neighboring hill. I mounted
Pauline and galloped in pursuit, riding rather by the balance than by
any muscular strength that remained to me. From the top of the hill
I could overlook a wide extent of desolate and unbroken prairie, over
which, far and near, little parties of naked horsemen were rapidly
passing. I soon came up to the nearest, and we had not ridden a mile
before all were united into one large and compact body. All was
haste and eagerness. Each hunter was whipping on his horse, as if
anxious to be the first to reach the game. In such movements among
the Indians this is always more or less the case; but it was
especially so in the present instance, because the head chief of the
village was absent, and there were but few "soldiers," a sort of
Indian police, who among their other functions usually assumed the
direction of a buffalo hunt. No man turned to the right hand or to
the left. We rode at a swift canter straight forward, uphill and
downhill, and through the stiff, obstinate growth of the endless
wild-sage bushes. For an hour and a half the same red shoulders, the
same long black hair rose and fell with the motion of the horses
before me. Very little was said, though once I observed an old man
severely reproving Raymond for having left his rifle behind him, when
there was some probability of encountering an enemy before the day
was over. As we galloped across a plain thickly set with sagebushes,
the foremost riders vanished suddenly from sight, as if diving into
the earth. The arid soil was cracked into a deep ravine. Down we
all went in succession and galloped in a line along the bottom, until
we found a point where, one by one, the horses could scramble out.
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