Buffalo Land: Authentic Account of the Discoveries, Adventures, and Mishaps of a Scientific and Sporting Party in the Wild WestWebb, W. E. (William Edward)
History
Buffalo Land: Authentic Account of the Discoveries, Adventures, and Mishaps of a Scientific and Sporting Party in the Wild West
Webb, W. E. (William Edward)
Hunting -- West (U.S.); Paleontology -- Kansas; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
As soon as possible after checking our horses, we rode back toward the
wagon and the game, seeing in the former, the grinning faces of our men.
The buffalo was still on his feet, but while we looked he slowly sunk to
his knees, like an ox lying down to rest, and then quietly reposed on
his belly, in the same attitude one sees domestic cattle assume when
wishing a quiet chew of the cud. Had it not been for his bloody nose and
wild eyes, he would have looked as peaceful as any bovine that ever
breathed.
[Illustration: _BUREAU OF ILLUSTRATION_
GOING AFTER AMMUNITION.]
Wishing to put the poor brute out of misery, we approached closer, and
several of us dismounted, when a general fire was opened. Like a cat,
the old fellow was on his feet again almost instantly. By a singular
coincidence, our entire party just then discovered that we were out of
ammunition, and in a body started for the wagon, to get some. Muggs
afterward assured us that, at the time, he had just got his hand in, "so
that every shot told, you know," and I have the authority of all for
the deliberate statement that the bull would have been riddled before
moving a foot had not the cartridges suddenly given out.
The effort of getting up had sent the mass of blood collected from
inward bleeding surging out of the buffalo's nose, and, as we looked
back, he was tottering feebly, and an instant afterward fell to the
ground. There was no doubt now of his death, and we swarmed upon and
around him. He was an immense old fellow, and his hide fairly covered
with the scars of past battles. Inasmuch as this was our first trophy,
it was determined to take his skin, and we forthwith seated the
Professor on his great shaggy neck, with the horns forming arms for an
impromptu hunter's throne. From thence he wrote upon leaves from his
note-book a letter to his class at the East, which he permitted me to
copy. I introduce it here, as showing that the blood of even a savan
pulsates warmly amid such circumstances as now surrounded us.
"ON A BUFFALO, IN THE }
YEAR OF MY HAPPINESS, ONE.}
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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