“You are all aware, boys,” began the ex-sergeant, “that I deserted in a moment of temptation, and with Corporal — went to America. Soon after our arrival in New York, the corporal left me to go to some of his friends in the state of Ohio, and I was left to shift for myself, intending to get some kind of situation in New York. Having plenty of money, however, to keep me in idleness for some time, I joined a party of ‘gold-seekers,’ who were going by the overland route to California. I formed one of six men. We had six horses, three pack-mules, and two dogs; and, although we journeyed for days with the heavy plodding ox-teams of the main body of our party, and intended to keep their company more or less all the way, yet we were equipped for, and intended to have some hunting and sport, diverging from the main track in the morning, and sometimes returning to it some distance ahead, so as to fall in with our party in the evening. Frequently, however, we missed the track; or, having game in view, we slept away from the main body.
“One bright summer morning we were up and broke camp earlier than usual. Old Ben Walton, our captain and guide, to whom these wilds were home, had promised that this day we should strike the great buffalo trail, by which mighty herds of those animals migrate from their winter pasturage in the south to fatten on the prairies of Utah and Oregon. For several days we had been separated from the rest of the party, and found ourselves, according to Ben’s calculation, on one of those great dry prairies that skirt the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains, near the northern boundary of New Mexico; we were suffering from want of water, the last quart remaining in my canteen I had shared with my horse in the morning. It was now mid-day, and our course lay due east, beneath a broiling sun; the plain was dry and parched, and it seemed that if we could not get into the track of our head-quarters, or find water, both man and beast must soon give way. Old Ben promised us water within a few miles, and we jogged on as fast as we could urge our half-famished horses. About four o’clock in the afternoon we came upon one of those singular ravines which the spring floods wash out of the loose soil of these prairies; the banks were perpendicular, the ravine about twenty feet deep, and from twenty to thirty yards wide, and in the sand and gravel bottom we beheld the welcome water, not a running stream, but standing in small limpid pools. The sight was very cheering, yet still it was out of our reach; we turned our course to the south, down the bank of the ravine; continuing thus for near a mile, we came upon a deep, wide pathway or gully worn by the hoofs of the buffaloes, and leading down to the bottom of the ravine. With a wild shout of joy we dashed down, and soon man, horse, and dog were regaling themselves at these delicious fountains of Nature.
“Kettles were swung, and in a few minuted the fragrant coffee, and boiling pemmican (dried buffalo beef, pounded) saluted our nostrils and whetted our appetites. All were busy, some unloading mules, others gathering fuel—the dried droppings of the buffalo, the only fuel of the plain, burning like turf. As we finished our meal, night was coming on, and Ben had advised us all to prepare for rest, when a low, rumbling sound, like distant thunder, started us all to our feet. As the sky was clear overhead, we were at a loss to account for the strange noise, until Ben, throwing his ear to the ground shouted,—
“‘Buffaloes! Mount!’
“The order was scarcely delivered before every man was in his saddle, and following Ben up the gully at full speed. On reaching the plain we had not long before crossed, a terrific sight to novices in prairie-life broke upon our vision.
“Away in the distance was a great brown mass, undulating like a sea, and extending miles in each direction. A cloud of dust hung above the mighty herd of buffaloes, darkening the sky. Already they snuffed the water, and were approaching at full speed. A glance was enough for Ben. Wheeling his horse again into the ravine, he shouted for all to follow. His practised eye saw that they were making for the water-course, and in a few moments, if we remained, we should be trampled to death.
“I thought that the hurried manner in which Ben ordered us to re-pack the mules and run up the ravine had something of cowardice in it. It would have been well for me had I partaken of this fear. While my more sensible companions hastened after Ben up the bottom of the ravine, I spurred my horse up the steep path to have another look—I even thought of bagging a few buffaloes, to astonish old Ben. When I reached the level of the plain, I witnessed such a sight as I shall never forget—a moving wall of life! and, within a few yards of me, grizzly, shaggy monsters, with heads to the ground, and tails erect, bellowing like an earthquake, throwing white froth from their parched mouths, while their tread seemed to shake the very earth. With a sudden start my horse reared, twisting round upon his haunches, and, wheeling round, he dashed down the pathway; and, before I could regain my presence of mind, he was galloping at the top of his speed down the ravine, in a contrary direction to that taken by my comrades, who were now out of sight. For nearly a mile he held his headlong course, until a turn in the channel brought me in sight of a new danger.
“The herd had divided upon the plain, and thousands were crowding down another pathway below me, choking up the ravine with a dense, impenetrable living mass. This new barrier enabled me to control my horse; turning him round I scanned the high bank on each side for an opening of escape. All was vain! There was not a place for a cat to crawl up, and here was coming on either side a mass of buffaloes that would soon crush me between them. A few stragglers, more speedy than the rest, came first, crowding their noses into the little pools of water, and sucking them dry in a moment. Now the mass behind came sweeping like a mighty torrent, completely choking up the narrow ravine. There was no escape; and in less time than it takes me to tell you, boys, I was forced between the two divisions, and my frantic horse made a part of the living stream. The air was filled with sand, gravel, and froth. The hot breath from the feverish mass rose like steam, and sickened me. I felt that I must fall, not to the ground (there was no room for that), but upon the backs of the crushing, sweltering, reeking mass. A furious old bull gored my poor horse in the flank; again and again he plunged his short, sharp, strong horn into my dying horse until his entrails were torn out. I felt him giving way beneath me, his strength almost gone; still he was carried along by the crush. We came to a slight widening of the ravine and the pressure was relieved, but my lifeless horse sank to the earth, and was trampled to a jelly in a moment. As I felt him going, I sprang from the saddle, and landed erect upon the backs of the rushing, ramping buffaloes. I fell, but recovered myself before I came to the ground. At last I landed and lay at full length upon the back of a huge beast; with a feeling of desperation I twisted my hands into his mane, and on with the heaving torrent, my wild courser, mad with terror, throws his head wildly about, tearing the sides of all within his reach, and sprinkling me with a shower of froth and gore.”