best laterally on the level, and as long as we were quiet we
remained undiscovered. At the prospect, some of the hunters grew
excitedly profane. Others were timorous, fearing a stampede in our
direction. Being above, we could come down on the rear of the buffaloes
and they would be driven to the open.

Grant scouted the counseled caution. The hunters loaded guns, filled
their mouths with balls to reload on the gallop and awaited the
captain's order. Wheeling his horse to the fore, the warden gave one
quick signal. With a storm-burst of galloping hoofs, we charged down the
slope. At sound of our whirlwind advance, the bulls tossed up their
heads and began pawing the ground angrily. From the hunters there was no
shouting till close on the herd, then a wild halloo with unearthly
screams from the Indians broke from our company. The buffaloes started
up, turned panic-stricken, and with bellowings, that roared down the
valley, tore for the open prairie. The ravine rocked with the plunging
monsters, and reechoed to the crash of six-hundred guns and a
thunderous tread. Firing was at close range. In a moment there was a
battle royal between dexterous savages, swift as tigers, and these
leviathans of the prairie with their brute strength.

A quick fearless horse was now invaluable; for the swiftest riders
darted towards the large buffaloes and rode within a few yards before
taking aim. Instantly, the ravine was ablaze with shots. Showers of
arrows from the Indian hunters sung through the air overhead. Men
unhorsed, ponies thrown from their feet, buffaloes wounded--or
dead--were scattered everywhere. One angry bull gored furiously at his
assailant, ripping his horse from shoulder to flank, then, maddened by
the creature's blood, and before a shot from a second hunter brought him
down, caught the rider on its upturned horns and tossed him high. By
keeping deftly to the fore, where the buffalo could not see, and
swerving alternately from side to side as the enraged animals struck
forward, trained horses avoided side thrusts. The saddle-girths of one
hunter, heading a buffalo from the herd, gave way as he was leaning over
to send a final ball into the brute's head. Down he went, shoulders
foremost under its nose, while the horse, with a deft leap cleared the
vicious drive of horns. Strange to say, the buffalo did not see where he
fell and galloped onward. Carcasses were mowed down like felled trees;
but still we plunged on and on, p