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

by George Bird Grinnell

"Yes," said Jack, as he threw himself on the ground, "I haven't much wind. I'm not used to being as high up in the air as this, and then I'm not used to going much on foot. Say, Joe," he added, after a pause, "why do you carry a bow and arrows?" for the only arms Joe carried except a knife in his belt were a bow and arrows, in a case attached to a strap which passed over his shoulder.

"Pretty good reason," said Joe; "I ain't got no gun, and this is all I've got to hunt with."

"Well," said Jack, "you must have to get up pretty close to your game to kill 'em with bow and arrow, don't you?"

"Yes," said Joe, "pretty close. Of course buffalo hunting you ride up right close to the cow. Sheep and deer and antelope you have to crawl up as near as you can, and then maybe you have to wait, sometimes a long time, perhaps half a day. Then maybe the animals come near you, or go to some place where you can get near them, so you kill 'em. This bow shoots pretty strong. I've sent an arrow so deep into a cow that the feathers were wet with the blood, but then I never used a bow much. Some boys in the tribe can send an arrow pretty nearly through a buffalo. Some of the men, the best hunters, can shoot clear through a buffalo, so that the arrow falls out on the other side. One man in the camp one time killed two buffalo with one shot; the arrow went clear through the first one, and stuck in the second so deep that it killed it. Queer, wasn't it?"

"Well, I should say it was," said Jack. "I'd hate to have anybody shoot at me with one of those things."

"Yes," said Joe, "a bow shoots pretty strong, and then it don't make any noise; sometimes you miss a shot with the first arrow, you get a chance to shoot once or twice or three times more. The animal don't see you or hear you, just keeps on feeding."

After two or three more rests they found themselves on a stone platform, just below the foot of what Joe called the reef, meaning the great wall of rock which rose sheer to the top of the mountain. Here Joe pointed out several trails, winding about among the stones and sometimes passing over them, which he said were sheep trails, and now he warned Jack that they must look out carefully, for they might see sheep at almost any time. They went forward along one of these trails, climbing up pretty well toward the foot of the reef, and keeping a good lookout ahead and below them. As they went on, the reef broke away to their left, and Jack could see that a narrow and deep valley ran out from the mountain side, with grass and willows along the course of the stream which flowed through it. Very slowly and cautiously they proceeded, seeing nothing and hearing no sounds. They had gone perhaps three-quarters of a mile, and had followed the sheep trail up to the crest of a little ridge, beyond which there seemed to be a sag which ran down into the narrow, rock-strewn valley. Joe had his bow in his hand, an arrow on the string, and Jack followed him, ready to shoot at an instant's warning. As they topped the ridge there was a clatter below them, and Joe, suddenly drawing back his right arm, let fly an arrow at something that Jack could not see. In a moment Jack stood beside him, and saw not more than fifty yards away, a sheep running hard, and with a dark smear on its side, just behind the fore-leg, which showed that it was wounded.

"Shoot him!" said Joe. "Shoot him, quick!" and Jack threw his gun to his shoulder, but just as his eye settled into the sights, the sheep staggered, came to its knees, rose and staggered on a few steps, and then fell on its side. Jack's shot was not needed.

"Hurrah!" he said to Joe, as he slapped him on the shoulder; "that was a good shot and a quick shot, too. I did not suppose anybody could shoot like that with a bow and arrow. I'll have to get you to teach me how to shoot, Joe. I'd a heap rather kill anything with a bow while I'm out here than use my gun. Wouldn't it be great to go out with the Indians and hunt buffalo with nothing but a bow and arrow?"

Joe smiled and seemed pleased, partly, perhaps, with his shot, and partly because Jack was so glad that he had made a good one. They went down over the steep, slipping stone slide to where the sheep had fallen, but it did not lie there, for in its dying struggles it had rolled over and over down the steep slope, until now it lay on its side on a little grassy bank close to the trickle of water that flowed through the ravine. The arrow which still remained in its side was broken.