Waylaying the buffalo in this manner, and shooting them as they come to water, is the easiest and laziest method of hunting them.They may also be approached by crawling up ravines, or behind hills, or even over the open prairie.This is often surprisingly easy; but at other times it requires the utmost skill of the most experienced hunter.Henry Chatillon was a man of extraordinary strength and hardihood; but I have seen him return to camp quite exhausted with his efforts, his limbs scratched and wounded, and his buckskin dress stuck full of the thorns of the prickly-pear among which he had been crawling.Sometimes he would lay flat upon his face, and drag himself along in this position for many rods together.
On the second day of our stay at this place, Henry went out for an afternoon hunt.Shaw and I remained in camp until, observing some bulls approaching the water upon the other side of the river, we crossed over to attack them.They were so near, however, that before we could get under cover of the bank our appearance as we walked over the sands alarmed them.Turning round before coming within gunshot, they began to move off to the right in a direction parallel to the river.I climbed up the bank and ran after them.They were walking swiftly, and before I could come within gunshot distance they slowly wheeled about and faced toward me.Before they had turned far enough to see me I had fallen flat on my face.For a moment they stood and stared at the strange object upon the grass; then turning away, again they walked on as before; and I, rising immediately, ran once more in pursuit.Again they wheeled about, and again I fell prostrate.
Repeating this three or four times, I came at length within a hundred yards of the fugitives, and as I saw them turning again I sat down and leveled my rifle.The one in the center was the largest I had ever seen.I shot him behind the shoulder.His two companions ran off.He attempted to follow, but soon came to a stand, and at length lay down as quietly as an ox chewing the cud.Cautiously approaching him, I saw by his dull and jellylike eye that he was dead.
When I began the chase, the prairie was almost tenantless; but a great multitude of buffalo had suddenly thronged upon it, and looking up, I saw within fifty rods a heavy, dark column stretching to the right and left as far as I could see.I walked toward them.My approach did not alarm them in the least.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.Isoon 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.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.
