THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (any book recommendations txt) 📖

Behind Him A Suppressed snort, And Looking

Around He Saw To His Dismay A Monstrous Grizzly Ambling along In

That Animal'S Characteristic Gait, Within A Few Feet Of Him.

 

 

 

In Front, Only A Few Rods Away, There Happened to Be A Clump Of

Scrubby Pines, And He Incontinently Made A Break For Them, Climbing

Into The Tallest In less Time Than It Takes To Tell Of It.  The Bear

Deliberately Ate A Hearty Meal Off The Juicy Hams Of The Cow,

So Providentially Fallen In his Way, And When He Had Satiated himself,

Instead Of Going away, He Quietly Stretched himself Alongside Of

The Half-Devoured carcass, And Went To Sleep, Keeping One Eye Open,

However, On The Movements Of The Unlucky Hunter Whom He Had Corralled

In The Tree.  In the Early Evening His Partner Came To The Spot,

And Killed the Impudent Bear, That, Being Full Of Tender Buffalo Meat,

Was Sluggish And Unwary, And Thus Became An Easy Victim To The

Unerring Rifle; When The Unwilling Prisoner Came Down From His Perch

In The Pine, Feeling Sheepish Enough.  The Last Time I Saw Him He

Told Me He Still Had The Bear'S Hide, Which He Religiously Preserved

As A Memento Of His Foolishness In separating Himself From His Rifle,

A Thing He Has Never Been Guilty Of Before Or Since.

 

 

 

Kit Carson, When With Fremont On His First Exploring Expedition,

While Hunting For The Command, At Some Point On The Arkansas,

Left A Buffalo Which He Had Just Killed and Partly Cut Up, To Pursue

A Large Bull That Came Rushing By Him Alone.  He Chased his Game

For Nearly A Quarter Of A Mile, Not Being able, However, To Gain

On It Rapidly, Owing To The Blown Condition Of His Horse.  Coming Up

At Length To The Side Of The Fleeing Beast, Carson Fired, But At The

Same Instant His Horse Stepped into A Prairie-Dog Hole, Fell Down

And Threw Kit Fully Fifteen Feet Over His Head.  The Bullet Struck

The Buffalo Low Under The Shoulder, Which Only Served to Enrage Him

So That The Next Moment The Infuriated animal Was Pursuing Kit,

Who, Fortunately Not Much Hurt, Was Able To Run Toward The River.

It Was A Race For Life Now, Carson Using His Nimble Legs To The

Utmost Of Their Capacity, Accelerated very Much By The Thundering,

Bellowing Bull Bringing Up The Rear.  For Several Minutes It Was

Nip And Tuck Which Should Reach The Stream First, But Kit Got There

By A Scratch A Little Ahead.  It Was A Big Bend Of The River, And

The Water Was Deep Under The Bank, But It Was Paradise Compared

With The Hades Plunging at His Back; So Kit Leaped into The Water,

Trusting To Providence That The Bull Would Not Follow.  The Trust

Was Well Placed, For The Bull Did Not Continue The Pursuit, But Stood

On The Bank And Shook His Head Vehemently At The Struggling Hunter

Who Had Preferred deep Waves To The Horns Of A Dilemma On Shore.

 

 

 

Kit Swam Around For Some Time, Carefully Guarded by The Bull, Until

His Position Was Observed by One Of His Companions, Who Attacked

The Belligerent Animal Successfully With A Forty-Four Slug, And Then

Kit Crawled out And--Skinned the Enemy!

 

 

 

He Once Killed five Buffaloes During a Single Race, And Used but

Four Balls, Having Dismounted and Cut The Bullet From The Wound

Of The Fourth, And Thus Continued the Chase.  He It Was, Too, Who

Established his Reputation As A Famous Hunter By Shooting a Buffalo

Cow During an Impetuous Race Down A Steep Hill, Discharging His Rifle

Just As The Animal Was Leaping On One Of The Low Cedars Peculiar

To The Region.  The Ball Struck A Vital Spot, And The Dead Cow

Remained in the Jagged branches.  The Indians Who Were With Him

On That Hunt Looked upon The Circumstance As Something Beyond Their

Comprehension, And Insisted that Kit Should Leave The Carcass In

The Tree As "Big Medicine."  Katzatoa (Smoked shield), A Celebrated

Chief Of The Kiowas Many Years Ago, Who Was Over Seven Feet Tall,

Never Mounted a Horse When Hunting The Buffalo; He Always Ran After

Them On Foot And Killed them With His Lance.

 

 

 

Two Lance, Another Famous Chief, Could Shoot An Arrow Entirely

Through A Buffalo While Hunting On Horseback.  He Accomplished this

Remarkable Feat In the Presence Of The Grand Duke Alexis Of Russia,

Who Was Under The Care Of Buffalo Bill, Near Fort Hays, Kansas.

 

 

 

During One Of Fremont'S Expeditions, Two Of His Chasseurs, Named

Archambeaux And La Jeunesse,[43] Had A Curious Adventure On A

Buffalo-Hunt.  One Of Them Was Mounted on A Mule, The Other On

A Horse; They Came In sight Of A Large Band Of Buffalo Feeding Upon

The Open Prairie About A Mile Distant.  The Mule Was Not Fleet Enough,

And The Horse Was Too Much Fatigued with The Day'S Journey, To Justify

A Race, And They Concluded to Approach The Herd On Foot.  Dismounting

And Securing The Ends Of Their Lariats In the Ground, They Made

A Slight Detour, To Take Advantage Of The Wind, And Crept Stealthily

In The Direction Of The Game, Approaching Unperceived until Within

A Few Hundred yards.  Some Old Bulls Forming The Outer Picket Guard

Slowly Raised their Heads And Gazed long And Dubiously At The Strange

Objects, When, Discovering That The Intruders Were Not Wolves, But Two

Hunters, They Gave A Significant Grunt, Turned about As Though On

Pivots, And In less Than No Time The Whole Herd--Bulls, Cows, And

Calves--Were Making The Gravel Fly Over The Prairie In fine Style,

Leaving The Hunters To Their Discomfiture.  They Had Scarcely

Recovered from Their Surprise, When, To Their Great Consternation,

They Beheld The Whole Company Of The Monsters, Numbering Several

Thousand, Suddenly Shape Their Course To Where The Riding animals

Were Picketed.  The Charge Of The Stampeded buffalo Was A Magnificent

One; For The Buffalo, Mistaking The Horse And The Mule For Two Of

Their Own Species, Came Down Upon Them Like A Tornado.  A Small Cloud

Of Dust Arose For A Moment Over The Spot Where The Hunter'S Animals

Had Been Left; The Black Mass Moved on With Accelerated speed, And

In A Few Seconds The Horizon Shut Them All From View.  The Horse

And Mule, With All Their Trappings, Saddles, Bridles, And Holsters,

Were Never Seen Or Heard Of Afterward.

 

 

 

Buffalo Bill, In less Than Eighteen Months, While Employed as Hunter

Of The Construction Company Of The Kansas Pacific Railroad, In 1867-68,

Killed nearly Five Thousand Buffalo, Which Were Consumed by The

Twelve Hundred men Employed in track-Laying.  He Tells In his

Autobiography Of The Following Remarkable Experience He Had At One

Time With His Favourite Horse Brigham, On An Impromptu Buffalo Hunt:--

 

 

 

          One Day We Were Pushed for Horses To Work On Our Scrapers,

          So I Hitched up Brigham, To See How He Would Work.  He Was

          Not Much Used to That Kind Of Labour, And I Was About Giving

          Up The Idea Of Making a Work Horse Of Him, When One Of The

          Men Called to Me That There Were Some Buffaloes Coming Over

          The Hill.  As There Had Been No Buffaloes Seen Anywhere

          In the Vicinity Of The Camp For Several Days, We Had Become

          Rather Short Of Meat.  I Immediately Told One Of Our Men

          To Hitch His Horses To A Wagon And Follow Me, As I Was Going

          Out After The Herd, And We Would Bring Back Some Fresh Meat

          For Supper.  I Had No Saddle, As Mine Had Been Left At Camp

          A Mile Distant, So Taking The Harness From Brigham I Mounted

          Him Bareback, And Started out After The Game, Being armed

          With My Celebrated buffalo Killer Lucretia Borgia--A Newly

          Improved breech-Loading Needle-Gun, Which I Had Obtained

          From The Government.

 

 

 

          While I Was Riding Toward The Buffaloes, I Observed five

          Horsemen Coming Out From The Fort, Who Had Evidently Seen

          The Buffaloes From The Post, And Were Going Out For A Chase.

          They Proved to Be Some Newly Arrived officers In that Part

          Of The Country, And When They Came Up Closer I Could See

          By The Shoulder-Straps That The Senior Was A Captain,

          While The Others Were Lieutenants.

 

 

 

          "Hello! My Friend," Sang Out The Captain; "I See You Are

          After The Same Game We Are."

 

 

 

          "Yes, Sir; I Saw Those Buffaloes Coming Over The Hill,

          And As We Were About Out Of Fresh Meat I Thought I Would

          Go And Get Some," Said I.

 

 

 

          They Scanned my Cheap-Looking Outfit Pretty Closely, And

          As My Horse Was Not Very Prepossessing In appearance, Having

          On Only A Blind Bridle, And Otherwise Looking Like A Work

          Horse, They Evidently Considered me A Green Hand At Hunting.

 

 

 

          "Do You Expect To Catch Those Buffaloes On That Gothic

          Steed?" Laughingly Asked the Captain.

 

 

 

          "I Hope So, By Pushing On The Reins Hard Enough," Was

          My Reply.

 

 

 

          "You'Ll Never Catch Them In the World, My Fine Fellow,"

          Said The Captain.  "It Requires A Fast Horse To Overtake

          The Animals On The Prairie."

 

 

 

          "Does It?" Asked i, As If I Didn'T Know It.

 

 

 

          "Yes; But Come Along With Us, As We Are Going To Kill Them

          More For Pleasure Than Anything Else.  All We Want Are The

          Tongues And A Piece Of Tenderloin, And You May Have All

          That Is Left," Said The Generous Man.

 

 

 

          "I Am Much Obliged to You, Captain, And Will Follow You,"

          I Replied.

 

 

 

          There Were Eleven Buffaloes In the Herd, And They Were Not

          More Than A Mile Ahead Of Us.  The Officers Dashed on As If

          They Had A Sure Thing On Killing Them All Before I Could

          Come Up With Them; But I Had Noticed that The Herd Was

          Making Toward The Creek For Water, And As I Knew Buffalo

          Nature, I Was Perfectly Aware That It Would Be Difficult

          To Turn Them From Their Direct Course.  Thereupon, I Started

          Toward The Creek To Head Them Off, While The Officers

          Came Up In the Rear And Gave Chase.

 

 

 

          The Buffaloes Came Rushing Past Me Not A Hundred yards

          Distant, With The Officers About Three Hundred yards In

          The Rear.  Now, Thought I, Is The Time To "Get My Work In,"

          As They Say; And I Pulled off The Blind Bridle From My

          Horse, Who Knew As Well As I Did That We Were Out After

          Buffaloes, As He Was A Trained hunter.  The Moment The

          Bridle Was Off He Started at The Top Of His Speed, Running

          In ahead Of The Officers, And With A Few Jumps He Brought Me

          Alongside The Rear Buffalo.  Raising Old Lucretia Borgia

          To My Shoulder, I Fired, And Killed the Animal At The

          First Shot.  My Horse Then Carried me Alongside The Next

          One, Not Ten Feet Away, And I Dropped him At The Next Fire.

 

 

 

          As Soon As One Of The Buffalo Would Fall, Brigham Would

          Take Me So Close To The Next That I Could Almost Touch It

          With My Gun.  In this Manner I Killed the Eleven Buffaloes

          With Twelve Shots; And As The Last Animal Dropped, My Horse

          Stopped.  I Jumped off To The Ground, Knowing That He Would

          Not Leave Me--It Must Be Remembered that I Had Been Riding

          Him Without Bridle, Reins, Or Saddle--And, Turning around

          As The Party Of Astonished officers Rode Up, I Said To Them:--

 

 

 

          "Now, Gentlemen, Allow Me To Present To You All The Tongues

          And Tenderloins You Wish From These Buffaloes."

 

 

 

          Captain Graham, For Such I Soon Learned was His Name,

          Replied: "Well, I Never Saw The Like Before.  Who Under

          The Sun Are You, Anyhow?"

 

 

 

          "My Name Is Cody," Said I.

 

 

 

          Captain Graham, Who Was Considerable Of A Horseman,

          Greatly Admired brigham, And Said: "That Horse Of Yours

          Has Running Points."

 

 

 

          "Yes, Sir; He Has Not Only Got The Points, He Is A Runner

          And Knows How To Use The Points," Said I.

 

 

 

          "So I Noticed," Said The Captain.

 

 

 

          They All Finally Dismounted, And We Continued chatting

          For Some Little Time Upon The Different Subjects Of Horses,

          Buffaloes, Hunting, And Indians.  They Felt A Little Sore

          At Not Getting a Single Shot At The Buffaloes; But The Way

          I Had Killed them, They Said, Amply Repaid Them For Their

          Disappointment.  They Had Read Of Such Feats In books,

          But This Was The First Time They Had Ever Seen Anything

          Of The Kind With Their Own Eyes.  It Was The First Time,

          Also, That They Had Ever Witnessed or Heard Of A White Man

          Running Buffaloes On Horseback Without A Saddle Or Bridle.

 

 

 

          I Told Them