estroy tents and wagons, and a man on foot
caught in the rush has but a small chance for his life. A buffalo
stampede is much worse--or rather was much worse, in the old
days--because of the great weight and immense numbers of the beasts,
which, in a fury of heedless terror, plunged over cliffs and into
rivers, and bore down whatever was in their path. On the occasion in
question, my brother and cousin were on their way homeward. They were
just mounting one of the long, low swells, into which the prairie was
broken, when they heard a low, muttering, rumbling noise, like far-off
thunder. It grew steadily louder, and, not knowing what it meant, they
hurried forward to the top of the rise. As they reached it, they stopped
short in terror and amazement, for before them the whole prairie was
black with madly rushing buffaloes.

Afterward they learned that another couple of hunters, four or five
miles off, had fired into and stampeded a large herd. This herd, in its
rush, gathered others, all thundering along together in uncontrollable
and increasing panic.

The surprised hunters were far away from any broken ground or other
place of refuge, while the vast herd of huge, plunging, maddened beasts
was charging straight down on them not a quarter of a mile distant. Down
they came!--thousands upon thousands, their front extending a mile in
breadth, while the earth shook beneath their thunderous gallop, and,
as they came closer, their shaggy frontlets loomed dimly through the
columns of dust thrown up from the dry soil. The two hunters knew that
their only hope for life was to split the herd, which, though it had so
broad a front, was not very deep. If they failed they would inevitably
be trampled to death.

Waiting until the beasts were in close range, they opened a rapid fire
from their heavy breech-loading rifles, yelling at the top of their
voices. For a moment the result seemed doubtful. The line thundered
steadily down on them; then it swayed violently, as two or three of
the brutes immediately in front fell beneath the bullets, while their
neighbors made violent efforts to press off sideways. Then a narrow
wedge-shaped rift appeared in the line, and widened as it came
closer, and the buffaloes, shrinking from their foes in front, strove
desperately to edge away from the dangerous neighborhood; the shouts
and shots were redoubled; the hunters were almost choked by the cloud
of dust, through which they could see the stream