As I was preparing to dismount, a lance lying upon the ground caught my sight, and I instantly changed my resolution. If I could secure the weapon all might yet be well. I determined to make the effort at all hazards, and throwing my arm into the sling that depended from the neck of my horse, I swung lightly from his back, and hanging by my arm and foot, made ready to grasp the lance with my disengaged arm. As we swept along I succeeded in securing it, and reseating myself, prepared to drive it deep into the side of the enraged bull. I had scarcely time to poise the instrument when the buffalo charged down on us like a whirlwind. Bracing myself as best I might, I pulled violently on the reins and threw my steed to one side, just in time to prevent his being gored to death, at the same time lunging out savagely at the animal. The shock was terrific, and I went whirling from my horse's back some twenty feet on the prairie. I was not so violently stunned but that I was quite conscious of the danger I was in of being trampled to death by the hoofs of the demoralized herd, and, gathered myself up in time to grasp the trailing lasso that was fastened to my pony, I was dragged far out on the prairie. Badly bruised, my skin lacerated and in places bleeding profusely, I felt in no condition to take an active part in the hunt; in fact, my unique experience was, I thought, sufficient to last me a lifetime.
Riding at some distance from the melee, I had an excellent opportunity to watch the progress of the hunt. The slaughter continued with unabated fury. The plain was covered with dead and dying buffaloes. Horses could be seen galloping over the prairie riderless, while their dismounted masters were flying for their lives before the infuriated animals.
Sometimes the serried ranks would open, and the blinded horsemen, so intent upon their prey, amidst the cloud of dust, were wedged and hemmed in among the crowding beasts, over whose backs they were obliged to leap for security, leaving their horses to the fate that might await them in the results of this wild and desperate war. Many were the bulls that turned upon their assailants and met them with desperate resistance, and many were the warriors who were dismounted and saved themselves by their superior running abilities. Some who were closely pursued by the bulls, would wheel suddenly around, and snatching the part of buffalo robe from their waists, throw it over the horns and eyes of the maddened animal, and darting to one side, drive an arrow or lance to its heart. Others dashed upon the prairies by the side of the affrighted beasts which had escaped from the throng, and closely escorting them for a few rods, bring down their hearts' blood in streams, and their huge carcasses upon the enameled turf.
In this way the whole herd was quickly annihilated. The war lasted perhaps thirty minutes, and resulted in the total destruction of the herd, which, with all their strength and fury, were doomed, like every beast, to fall before the destroying hands of mighty man.
I had sat trembling on my horse, and witnessed this extraordinary scene. Although I was not enabled to accurately estimate the number killed, yet I am sure several hundred buffaloes fell in this grand onslaught.
After the battle the scene was curious in the extreme. The hunters were moving about amongst the dead and dying animals, leading their horses by their halters, and claiming their slain by the private marks upon their arrows, which they were drawing from the wounds in the animals' sides. A few buffaloes had the good fortune to escape, but, after wandering off on the prairie for some distance, they would stop, stand a while, looking around as if in bewilderment, then turning, as if bent on their own destruction, return to the herd, and mingling with the dead and dying, swell the slaughtered throng with their numbers.
When all was finished, and the arrows had been claimed, a general council was held, the Indians seated in a circle on the ground. The pipe was passed around, each taking a few whiffs.
It was decided to wait until the women and extra horses had arrived from the village, a messenger having been despatched to announce our success, and ordering the squaws to repair to the scene and carry the meat back to the encampment. We had not long to wait for the arrival of the women. They came in a gang, making the air resound with their yells of rejoicing. As soon as they came up they were greeted with disdainful silence by the assembled warriors, and Tonsaroyoo having issued a few directions, they fell to, and were soon deep in the mysteries of skinning and butchering the slain buffaloes. As soon as a carcass had been cut up, it was placed in a covering of the hide, and placed upon the pony's back waiting to receive it. As soon as one was loaded, an Indian boy took him in charge and led him off to the village.
The plain presented a peculiar appearance, dotted here and there with the ladened ponies returning to camp, and reminded me of a caravan on the African deserts, such as I had seen in books, more than anything else. The warriors soon rode off, leaving the women, boys, and dogs to complete the destruction.
Our entry into the village was an ovation. Conquering heroes could not have been more graciously received. During the next week all hands were engaged in a round of feasting and dancing, interspersed with religious ceremonies, and in some instances of self-immolation. No scene of the long series in which I was both actor and spectator, gave me a better idea of the Indian character. To fight, slaughter, prey, eat and sleep, seemed to be the end and aim of their existence. To outnumber his adversary and hence consummate his destruction, was the highest possibility of prowess. To bear torture without evincing the weakness of physical suffering was the sublimity of courage; and when death finally overtook them, to go to the happy hunting grounds well supplied with the implements that would produce carnal enjoyment was the apotheosis of enjoyment!