The buffalo is especially a gregarious animal, and is found in herds of immense size, many thousands in number. Their dark forms may often be seen extending over the prairie as far as the eye can reach, a mighty moving mass of life. Onward they rush, moved by some sudden impulse, making the ground tremble under their feet, while their course may be traced by the vast cloud of dust which floats over them as they sweep across the plain. They are invariably followed by flocks of wolves, who pounce on any young or sick members of the herd which may be left behind. They range throughout the whole prairie country, from the "Fertile Belt," which extends from the Red River settlement to the Rocky Mountains in British Central America, to Mexico in the south. The bulls are at times excessively savage. They often quarrel among themselves, and then, falling out of the herd, they engage in furious combats, greatly to the advantage of the pursuing wolves. In the summer, the buffalo delights in wallowing in mud. Reaching some marshy spot, he throws himself down, and works away till he excavates a mud-hole in the soil. The water from the surrounding ground rapidly drains into this, and covers him up, thus freeing him from the stings of the gnats and flies which swarm in that season. The buffalo is hunted on horseback both by whites and by Indians, though the sport is one in which a considerable amount of danger must be braved. Let us set off from a farm in the Western States, on the border of the prairie. We have one or two nights to camp out before we reach the buffalo grounds. Mounting our horses by break of day, after an early breakfast, we ride on with the wind in our faces, and at length discover across the plain a number of dark objects moving slowly. They are buffaloes, feeding as they go. We see through our field-glasses that there are calves among them. It is proposed that some of our party should ride round, so as to stampede the herd back towards us, and thus, by dividing them, enable us to get in the centre. We wait for some time, when we see a vast mass of hairy monsters come tearing over a hill towards us. We have shot several of the bulls, but our object is to secure their calves and cows. As the herd approaches us, it swings round its front at right-angles, and makes off westward. We dash forward, and divide it into two parties. We also separate, some of our hunters following one part of the herd, the others the remainder. The enthusiasm of our horses equals our own. Away we go; nothing stops us. Now we plunge with headlong bounds down bluffs of caving sands fifty feet high,--while the buffaloes, crazy with terror, are scrambling half-way up the opposite side. Now we are on the very haunches of our game; now before us appears a slippery buffalo wallow. We see it just in time to leap clear, but the next instant we are in the middle of one. Our horses, with frantic plunges, scramble out; and on we go. We get