CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
A BUFFALO "SURROUND."
A march of twenty miles brought us to the place where we expected to bejoined by the band. We found a small stream heading in the Pinon Range,and running westward to the San Pedro. It was fringed with cotton-treesand willows, and with grass in abundance for our horses. Here weencamped, kindled a fire in the thicket, cooked our wolf-mutton, ate it,and went to sleep.
The band came up in the morning, having travelled all night. Theirprovisions were spent as well as ours, and instead of resting ourwearied animals, we pushed on through a pass in the sierra in hopes offinding game on the other side.
About noon we debouched through the mountain pass into a country ofopenings--small prairies, bounded by jungly forests, and interspersedwith timber islands. These prairies were covered with tall grass, andbuffalo signs appeared as we rode into them. We saw their "roads,""chips," and "wallows."
We saw, moreover, the _bois de vache_ of the wild cattle. We would soonmeet with one or the other.
We were still on the stream by which we had camped the night before, andwe made a noon halt to refresh our animals.
The full-grown forms of the cacti were around us, bearing red and yellowfruit in abundance. We plucked the pears of the pitahaya, and ate themgreedily; we found service-berries, yampo, and roots of the "pommeblanche." We dined on fruits and vegetables of various sorts,indigenous only to this wild region.
But the stomachs of the hunters longed for their favourite food, thehump ribs and boudins of the buffalo; and after a halt of two hours, wemoved forward through the openings.
We had ridden about an hour among chapparal, when Rube, who was somepaces in advance, acting as guide, turned in his saddle and pointeddownward.
"What's there, Rube?" asked Seguin, in a low voice.
"Fresh track, cap'n; buffler!"
"What number; can you guess?"
"A gang o' fifty or tharabout. They've tuk through the thicketyander-away. I kin sight the sky. Thur's clur ground not fur from us;and I'd stak a plew thur in it. I think it's a small parairia, cap."
"Halt here, men!" said Seguin; "halt and keep silent. Ride forward,Rube. Come, Monsieur Haller, you're fond of hunting; come along withus!"
I followed the guide and Seguin through the bushes; like them, ridingslowly and silently.
In a few minutes we reached the edge of a prairie covered with longgrass. Peering cautiously through the leaves of the prosopis, we had afull view of the open ground. The buffaloes were on the plain!
It was, as Rube had rightly conjectured, a small prairie about a mileand a half in width, closed in on all sides by a thick chapparal. Nearthe centre was a motte of heavy timber, growing up from a leafyunderwood. A spur of willows running out from the timber indicated thepresence of water.
"Thur's a spring yander," muttered Rube. "They've jest been a-coolin'their noses at it."
This was evident enough, for some of the animals were at the momentwalking out of the willows; and we could see the wet clay glisteningupon their flanks, and the saliva glancing down from their jaws.
"How will we get at them, Rube?" asked Seguin; "can we approach them, doyou think?"
"I doubt not, cap. The grass 'ud hardly kiver us, an thur a-gwine outo' range o' the bushes."
"How then? We cannot run them; there's not room. They would be intothe thicket at the first dash. We would lose every hoof of them."
"Sartin as Scripter."
"What is to be done?"
"This niggur sees but one other plan as kin be used jest at this time."
"What is it?"
"Surround."
"Right; if we can do that. How is the wind?"
"Dead as an Injun wi' his head cut off," replied the trapper, taking asmall feather out of his cap and tossing it in the air. "See, cap, itfalls plump!"
"It does, truly."
"We kin easily git roun' them bufflers afore they wind us; an' we hevmen enough to make a picket fence about them. We can hardly set aboutit too soon, cap. Thur a movin' torst the edge yander."
"Let us divide the men, then," said Seguin, turning his horse; "you canguide one-half of them to their stands. I will go with the other.Monsieur Haller, you had better remain where you are. It is as good astand as you can get. Have patience. It may be an hour before all areplaced. When you hear the bugle, you may gallop forward and do yourbest. If we succeed, you shall have sport and a good supper, which Isuppose you feel the need of by this time."
So saying, Seguin left me, and rode back to the men, followed by oldRube.
It was their purpose to separate the band into two parties, each takingan opposite direction, and to drop men here and there at regularintervals around the prairie. They would keep in the thicket while onthe march, and only discover themselves at a given signal. In this way,should the buffaloes allow time for the execution of the movement, weshould be almost certain of securing the whole gang.
As soon as Seguin had left me, I looked to my rifle and pistols, puttingon a fresh set of caps. After that, having nothing else to occupy me, Iremained seated in my saddle, eyeing the animals as they fed unconsciousof danger. I was full of anxiety lest some clumsy fellow might discoverhimself too soon, and thus spoil our anticipated sport.
After a while I could see the birds flying up from the thicket, and thescreaming of the blue jay indicated to me the progress of the"surround."
Now and then, an old bull, on the skirts of the herd, would toss up hisshaggy mane, snuff the wind, and strike the ground fiercely with hishoof, evidently labouring under a suspicion that all was not right.
The others did not seem to heed these demonstrations, but kept onquietly cropping the luxuriant grama.
I was thinking how nicely we were going to have them in the trap, whenan object caught my eye, just emerging from the motte. It was a buffalocalf, and I saw that it was proceeding to join the gang. I thought itsomewhat strange that it should be separated from the rest, for thecalves, trained by their mothers to know the wolf, usually keep up withthe herd.
"It has stayed behind at the spring," thought I. "Perhaps the otherspushed it from the water, and it could not drink until they were gone."
I fancied that it moved clumsily, as if wounded; but it was passingthrough the long grass, and I could not get a good view of it.
There was a pack of coyotes (there always is) sneaking after the herd.These, perceiving the calf, as it came out of the timber, made aninstant and simultaneous attack upon it. I could see them skippingaround it, and fancied I could hear their fierce snarling; but the calfappeared to fight its way through the thick of them; and after a shortwhile, I saw it close in to its companions, where I lost sight of itamong the others.
"A game young bull," soliloquised I, and again I ran my eye around theskirting of the chapparal to watch how the hunters were getting forwardwith the "surround." I could perceive the flashing of brilliant wingsover the bramble, and hear the shrill voices of the jay-birds. Judgingby these, I concluded that the men were moving slowly enough. It washalf an hour since Seguin had left me, and I could perceive that theywere not half-way round as yet.
I began to make calculations as to how long I would have to wait,soliloquising as follows:--
"Diameter of the prairie, a mile and a half. It is a circle three timesthat: four miles and a half. Phew! I shall not hear the signal in muchless than an hour. I must be patient then, and--what! The brutes arelying down! Good! There is no danger now of their making off. Weshall have rare sport! One, two, three, six of them down! It must bethe heat and the water. They have drunk too much. There goes another.Lucky devils! They have nothing else to do but eat and sleep, while I--no! eight down! Well! I hope soon to eat, too. What an odd way theyhave of coming to the ground! How different from anything of the bovinetribe I have yet observed! I have never seen buffaloes quieting downbefore. One would think they were falling as if shot! Two morealongside the rest! They wi
ll soon be all upon the turf. So much thebetter. We can gallop up before they get to their feet again. Oh, thatI could hear that horn!"
And thus I went on rambling from thought to thought, and listening forthe signal, although I knew that it could not be given for some timeyet.
The buffaloes kept moving slowly onward, browsing as they went, andcontinuing to lie down one after another. I thought it strange, theirstretching themselves thus successively; but I had observed farm cattledo the same, and I was at that time but little acquainted with thehabits of the buffalo. Some of them appeared to toss about on theground and kick violently. I had heard of a peculiarity of theseanimals termed "wallowing."
"They are at it," thought I. I wished much to have a clearer view ofthis curious exercise, but the high grass prevented me. I could onlysee their shaggy shoulders, and occasionally their hoofs kicking up overthe sward.
I watched their movements with great interest, now feeling secure thatthe "surround" would be complete before they would think of rising.
At length the last one of the gang followed the example of hiscompanions, and dropped over.
They were all now upon their sides, half-buried in the bunch grass. Ithought I noticed the calf still upon its feet; but at that moment thebugle sounded, and a simultaneous cheer broke from all sides of theprairie.
I pressed the spur to my horse's flank, and dashed out into the openplain. Fifty others had done the same, yelling as they shot out of thethicket.
With my reins resting on my left fingers, and my rifle thrown crosswise,I galloped forward, filled with the wild excitement that such anadventure imparts. I was cocked and ready, resolved upon having thefirst shot.
It was but a short distance from where I had started to the nearestbuffalo. I was soon within range, my horse flying like an arrow.
"Is the animal asleep? I am within ten paces of him, and still he stirsnot! I will fire at him as he lies."
I raised my rifle, levelled it, and was about to pull the trigger, whensomething red gleamed before my eyes. It was blood!
I lowered the piece with a feeling of terror, and commenced draggingupon the rein; but, before I could pull up, I was carried into the midstof the prostrate herd. Here my horse suddenly stopped, and I sat in mysaddle as if spell-bound. I was under the influence of a superstitiousawe. Blood was before me and around me. Turn which way I would, my eyerested upon blood!
My comrades closed in, yelling as they came; but their yelling suddenlyceased, and one by one reined up, as I had done, with looks ofconsternation and wonder.
It was not strange, at such a sight. Before us lay the bodies of thebuffaloes. They were all dead, or quivering in the last throes. Eachbad a wound above the brisket, and from this the red stream gurled out,and trickled down their still panting sides. Blood welled from theirmouths and out of their nostrils. Pools of it were filtering throughthe prairie turf; and clotted gouts, flung out by the struggling hoof,sprinkled the grass around them!
"Oh, heavens! what could it mean?"
"Wagh! Santisima! Sacre Dieu!" were the exclamations of the hunters.
"Surely no mortal hand has done this?"
"It wa'n't nuthin' else," cried a well-known voice, "ef yur call anInjun a mortal. 'Twur a red-skin, and this child--look 'ee-e!"
I heard the click of a rifle along with this abrupt exclamation. Iturned suddenly. Rube was in the act of levelling his piece. My eyeinvoluntarily followed the direction of the barrel. There was an objectmoving in the long grass.
"A buffalo that still kicks," thought I, as I saw the mass of dark-brownhair; "he is going to finish him; it is the calf!"
I had scarcely made the observation when the animal reared up on itshind legs, uttering a wild human scream; the shaggy hide was flung off;and a naked savage appeared, holding out his arms in an attitude ofsupplication.
I could not have saved him. The rifle had cracked, the ball had sped.I saw it piercing his brown breast, as a drop of sleet strikes upon thepane of glass; the red spout gushed forth, and the victim fell forwardupon the body of one of the animals.
"Wagh! Rube!" exclaimed one of the men; "why didn't ye give him time toskin the meat? He mout as well 'a done that when he war about it;" andthe man laughed at his savage jest.
"Look 'ee hyur, boyees!" said Rube, pointing to the motte; "if 'ee looksharp, yur mout scare up another calf yander away! I'm a-gwine to seearter this Injun's har; I am."
The hunters, at the suggestion, galloped off to surround the motte.
I felt a degree of irresolution and disgust at this cool shedding ofblood. I drew my rein almost involuntarily, and moved forward to thespot where the savage had fallen. He lay back uppermost. He was nakedto the breech-clout. There was the debouchure of a bullet below theleft shoulder, and the black-red stream was trickling down his ribs.The limbs still quivered, but it was in the last spasms of parting life.
The hide in which he had disguised himself lay piled up where it hadbeen flung. Beside it were a bow and several arrows. The latter werecrimsoned to the notch, the feathers steeped in blood and clinging tothe shafts. They had pierced the huge bodies of the animals, passingthrough and through. Each arrow had taken many lives! The old trapperrode up to the corpse, and leisurely dismounted from his mare.
"Fifty dollar a plew!" he muttered, unsheathing his knife and stoopingover the body. "It's more'n I got for my own. It beats beaver allhollow. Cuss beaver, say this child. Plew a plug--ain't worth trappin'if the varmint wur as thick as grass-jumpers in calf-time. 'Ee up,niggur," he continued, grasping the long hair of the savage, and holdingthe face upward; "let's get a squint of your phisog. Hooraw! Coyote'Pash! Hooraw!"
And a gleam of triumph lit up the countenance of the old man as heuttered these wild exclamations.
"Apash, is he?" asked one of the hunters, who had remained near thespot.
"That he are, Coyote 'Pash, the very niggurs that bobtailed this child'sears. I kin swar to thur ugly picters anywhur I get my peepers upon'em. Wouwough--ole woofy! got 'ee at last, has he! Yur a beauty, an'no mistake."
So saying, he gathered the long crown locks in his left hand, and withtwo slashes of his knife, held quarte and tierce, he cut a circle aroundthe top of the head, as perfect as if it had been traced by compasses.He then took a turn of the hair over his wrist, giving it a quick jerkoutward. At the same instant, the keen blade passed under the skin, andthe scalp was taken!
"Counts six," he continued, muttering to himself while placing the scalpin his belt; "six at fifty--three hunder shiners for 'Pash har; cussbeaver trappin'! says I."
Having secured the bleeding trophy, he wiped his knife upon the hair ofone of the buffaloes, and proceeded to cut a small notch in the woodworkof his gun, alongside five others that had been carved there already.These six notches stood for Apaches only; for as my eye wandered alongthe outlines of the piece, I saw that there were many other columns inthat terrible register!