While executing his lightning-like movements, the Shawanoe added his shoutings to those of his friend, and then laid about him with the clubbed weapon. The unique performances of the two did the business. The fall of one bison, the strange figure dancing as it seemed in mid-air, injected a panic into that part of the herd, which split into two divisions that thundered past the terrified group as if the elevation formed a small island in the center of a rushing torrent.
Deerfoot allowed himself to be carried a number of yards on the back of his frantic steed. When abreast of the horses he sprang from his perch and ran up beside them, where the boys had all they could do to restrain the animals. As if nothing unusual had occurred, the Shawanoe joined in their efforts, and, by main force, restrained the brutes from breaking away and diving among the bison, where they could not have survived more than a few minutes.
The wedge having been inserted into the onrushing herd, nothing more remained to be done. The dividing point not only was maintained, but the bison began separating farther back, so that by and by the partition point was twice as distant as at first.
None of the rifles was loaded, and no attempt was made to ram a charge into them while the stampede continued. The Blackfoot, however, seemed to catch the wild ardor of panic, and, dropping his blanket, brought his bow into play. Arrow after arrow was launched at the bison. Though none fell, a number were grievously hurt and, as they dived past, more than one showed an arrow projecting like a giant feather from some part of his body. So enormous was this herd of bison that nearly an hour passed before the last galloped by and followed with undiminished speed the thousands that were headed southward and running as if they would never stop.
CHAPTER VI
A MISHAP.
THE flight of so immense a number of bison during the dry season would have filled the air with thick clouds of suffocating dust, but our friends were spared this infliction. It was not only early in the season, when the grass was green and the soil damp, but there had been a heavy rainfall a couple of days before.
After the rear of the herd had thundered past, bellowing, flinging their heels and putting forth their best exertions, as if Death himself were nipping at their heels, the little party having quieted their horses, remounted and gazed after the vanishing drove. A singular result of the shots of Deerfoot and Mul-tal-la showed itself. In neither case was the bison killed outright, but the one struck by the Shawanoe and four of those hit by the Blackfoot were so badly wounded that they wabbled and sagged down and were quickly crushed. Here and there, at varying distances, the dark humps were seen in the trampled grass, looking like mounds of brown dirt.
Since the four made it a rule to depend upon their rifles for food, they had no sooner reloaded the weapons than they set out to secure their dinner from the spoils before them. All had eaten bison meat before. Though some profess to relish it, the flesh is rather tough and sometimes so strong that it takes a hungry man to enjoy such a meal. The animal, however, like all others, has his choice portions.
Mul-tal-la was sure that no more palatable feast could be had than from buffalo tongue. Accordingly, he and Deerfoot, leaving the rest of the game untouched, provided themselves with those delicacies, which were well cooked by means of dried buffalo chips, and all declared themselves well satisfied.