The buffalo were aware of their approach, and had begun to move, though very slowly and in a compact mass.  I have no further recollection of seeing the game until we were in the midst of them, for as we descended the hill other objects engrossed my attention.  Numerous old bulls were scattered over the plain, and ungallantly deserting their charge at our approach, began to wade and plunge through the treacherous quick-sands or the stream, and gallop away toward the hills.  One old veteran was struggling behind all the rest with one of his forelegs, which had been broken by some accident, dangling about uselessly at his side.  His appearance, as he went shambling along on three legs, was so ludicrous that I could not help pausing for a moment to look at him.  As I came near, he would try to rush upon me, nearly throwing himself down at every awkward attempt.  Looking up, I saw the whole body of Indians full a hundred yards in advance.  I lashed Pauline in pursuit and reached them just in time, for as we mingled among them, each hunter, as if by a common impulse, violently struck his horse, each horse sprang forward convulsively, and scattering in the charge in order to assail the entire herd at once, we all rushed headlong upon the buffalo.  We were among them in an instant.  Amid the trampling and the yells I could see their dark figures running hither and thither through clouds of dust, and the horsemen darting in pursuit.  While we were charging on one side, our companions had attacked the bewildered and panic-stricken herd on the other.  The uproar and confusion lasted but for a moment.  The dust cleared away, and the buffalo could be seen scattering as from a common center, flying over the plain singly, or in long files and small compact bodies, while behind each followed the Indians, lashing their horses to furious speed, forcing them close upon their prey, and yelling as they launched arrow after arrow into their sides.  The large black carcasses were strewn thickly over the ground.  Here and there wounded buffalo were standing, their bleeding sides feathered with arrows; and as I rode past them their eyes would glare, they would bristle like gigantic cats, and feebly attempt to rush up and gore my horse.

I left camp that morning with a philosophic resolution.  Neither I nor my horse were at that time fit for such sport, and I had determined to remain a quiet spectator; but amid the rush of horses and buffalo, the uproar and the dust, I found it impossible to sit still; and as four or five buffalo ran past me in a line, I drove Pauline in pursuit.  We went plunging close at their heels through the water and the quick-sands, and clambering the bank, chased them through the wild-sage bushes that covered the rising ground beyond.  But neither her native spirit nor the blows of the knotted bull-hide could supply the place of poor Pauline’s exhausted strength.  We could not gain an inch upon the poor fugitives.  At last, however, they