Jack Among the Indians; Or, A Boy's Summer on the Buffalo Plains

by George Bird Grinnell

Jack went out and brought in the horses, and tied them up to some bushes. Then he put the saddles on the pack horses, and drew the cinches up on them well, but did not tie them. Next he saddled Hugh's horse, and then his own, in each case leaving the latigos untied. By the time he had returned to the fire, Hugh had made up his packs, and when Jack saw that they were ready, he brought up the pack horses, one by one, and after re-cinching each animal, the loads were speedily in position. The two riders mounted, and they moved off in a single file, Hugh leading, the pack horses following and Jack as usual bringing up in the rear on Pawnee.

All through the morning they travelled on over the gray prairie. Antelope were plenty and tame, and often ventured within shot of the train, but they had meat in one of the packs, and neither Hugh nor Jack felt like molesting the pretty animals. There were many flowers to be seen on the prairie; bunches of brilliant red or yellow cactus and white poppy bells swinging in the wind. Now and then, in some low places, where it was too damp for the sage to grow, they saw patches of blue and pink lupine, and occasionally a bunch of white flowers, which Hugh had told Jack was the loco; a plant which poisons animals that eat it.

About noon Hugh halted near a little hill, and said to Jack, "Let's leave the pack horses here to feed, and ride up on top of that bluff. I think maybe we'll see something." They did so, and when they reached its crest, Hugh, after looking over the landscape for a few moments, pointed away to the north, and said, "Buffalo." Jack looked hard, but could see nothing that looked like a buffalo, but far off on the distant hillside he saw some tiny black specks, which he knew must be the longed-for animals.

"Now, Hugh," he said, "how do you know that those are buffalo, and not cattle or horses?"

"Well," said Hugh, "to tell you the truth, I don't believe I can tell you how I know, but I know it all the same. In the first place, in this range of country where we are now, there ain't any cattle or any horses, without they're Indian horses. Now, of course it might be such a thing that there'd be a little bunch of Indian horses scattered out on the hill-side like that, and all of 'em dark coloured animals, but I don't believe it. I wouldn't look to see horses in such a place as that; they're too far from any stream, and they don't look right for horses. At the same time, they're too far off for me to tell by their shape or the way they act that they ain't horses. But you keep on, and before the day's over, we'll see more buffalo, and close to us, too; and maybe before this trip's over, you'll get to know buffalo when you see 'em as far off as that, even if you can't tell how it is you know what they are."

Two or three miles beyond this they stopped at a little stream, where there were a few trees, and unpacked their animals and turned them out to graze, while they built a fire and cooked a meal. After they had eaten, and prepared the packs again, Hugh said, "Now, we'll let these horses eat for an hour longer before packing up, and then we'll start, and if we have to, we can make quite a long drive before night." They made themselves comfortable under the shade of the tree, and presently Hugh said to Jack, "Son, do you mind the lecture I gave you about hunting, when you first came out into this country, more than a year ago? That was the day you killed your first antelope, I think."

"Yes, of course I remember, Hugh," replied Jack. "I didn't understand everything that you told me then, but I've remembered it all a good many times since, and what you said to me has helped me a whole lot."

"Well," said Hugh, "I expect I did talk a heap that day, but I wanted to kind o' try and start you on the right road. I mind, though, that while I was talking, I kept thinking I was kind o' like one of them professors that we see out in this country sometimes; them fellows that come out to dig bones, and catch bugs, and all sorts of little lizards, snakes and other varmints. I heard one of them talking once, and he just kept right on for two or three hours, telling us about how the earth was made, and how this used to be water where it is all dry now, and a whole parcel of things that I didn't understand, and I don't believe anybody else did, except the man that was talking."

"Well, Hugh," said Jack, "there isn't anybody that knows it all, and these professors know about bones and bugs, and you know about hunting and trailing, and fighting Indians. I suppose there ain't any man but what could teach 'most any other man something."

"That's so, son; you're dead right, but the trouble with most of us is, we set a heap of store by what we know, and we don't think very much of what other people know. I expect the smartest men of all is them that's always anxious to learn, and always a-learning. But what I set out to say was something about buffalo, and killing buffalo. Now, of course, you're a boy; a pretty sensible boy, I'll allow, but, after all, you're a boy, and you're liable to get excited. Now, you know, we're travelling now; we ain't here for pleasure; we're trying to go somewhere; so if we come on buffalo, right close, sudden, I don't want you to go crazy, and start off to chase 'em. You're here now, a-helping to take care of this pack train, and you mustn't lose your packs. You'll have plenty of chances to kill buffalo; likely you'll have a chance to-day; but when you start in to kill your first buffalo, see that you go at it right. Now, a buffalo is awful easy killed. Where they're plenty, you can creep right up close to 'em, and kill 'em by still hunting, but of course it's lots more fun to run 'em. You've got a good horse, and he'll take you right up to any cow that runs on the prairie. When you get a chance to chase buffalo, remember that you mustn't shoot until you get right up close to 'em. Ride right up close by the cow's side, and then shoot, and your horse will turn off a little, so as to get out of the way in case the cow should charge. You needn't mind your horse at all; he'll take care of himself, and won't step into any badger hole, or fall with you; but you've got to look out for your riding, for if a cow turns quick, and your horse has to whirl quick, you may slide off, if you haven't got the horse well between your legs. Another thing is, that a buffalo stands awful high, and you're likely to shoot too high, and put a lot of bullets into an animal where they won't hurt it a particle. You must remember that in a buffalo, as in every other animal that I know anything about, the life lies low. If you're on a horse, you'll be shooting down, of course, but try to shoot so that the ball will cut the buffalo only a few inches above the brisket. I've seen lots of young fellows waste ammunition on buffalo; fellows that could shoot pretty well, too; only they didn't know where to shoot; they all shot too high. The boss ribs on a buffalo stick so far up into the air that there's pretty nigh as much of the animal above its backbone as there is below, and that's awful deceiving, and tends to make a man shoot high. Now, I expect likely you'll remember all this that I've told you, and won't have any trouble at all. You take hold of things about hunting quicker than any boy I ever saw."