"Let us go," he said.
"Whenever you please," the Count answered.
The Chief made a signal, and three magnificent horses, superbly caparisoned in the Indian fashion, were led up by children. The whites mounted, and the band set out in the direction of the prairie.
It was about six in the morning, the night storm had completely swept the sky, which was of a pale blue; the sun, fully risen in the horizon, shot forth its warm beams, which drew out the sharp and odoriferous vapours from the ground, The atmosphere was wondrously transparent, a slight breeze refreshed the air, and flocks of birds, lustrous with a thousand hues, flew around, uttering joyous cries. The troop marched gaily through the tall prairie grass, raising a cloud of dust, and undulating like a long serpent in the endless turnings of the road.
The spot where the chase was to come off was nearly thirty miles distant from the village. In the desert all places are alike, tall grass, in the midst of which the horsemen entirely disappear; stunted shrubs, and here and there clumps of trees, whose imposing crowns rise to an enormous height;—such was the road the Indians had to follow up to the spot where they would find the animals they proposed chasing.
In the prairies of Arkansas and the Upper Missouri, at the time of our story, ostriches were still numerous, and their chase one of the numerous amusements of the Redskins and wood rangers. It is probable that the successive invasions of the white men, and the immense clearings effected by fire and the axe, have now compelled them to abandon this territory, and retire to the inaccessible desert of the Rocky Mountains, or the sands of the Far West.
We will say here, without any pretence at a scientific description, a few words about this singular animal, still but little known in Europe. The ostrich generally lives in small families of from eight to ten, scattered along the banks of marshes, pools, and streams. They live on fresh grass. Faithful to their native soil, they never quit the vicinity of the water, and in the month of November lay their eggs in the wildest part of the plain, fifty to sixty at a time, which are brooded, solely at night, by male and female in turn, with a touching tenderness. When the incubation is terminated, the ostrich breaks the barren eggs with its beak, which are at once covered with flies and insects, supplying nourishment to the young birds. The ostrich of the Western prairies differs slightly from the Nandus of the Patagonian prairies and the African species. It is about five feet high, and four and a half long, from the stomach to the end of the tail; its beak is very pointed, and measures a little over five inches.
A characteristic trait of the ostriches is their extreme curiosity. In the Indian villages, where they live in a tamed state, it is of frequent occurrence to see them stalking through groups of talkers, and regarding them with fixed attention. In the plain this curiosity is often fatal to them, for it leads them to look unhesitatingly at everything that seems strange or unusual to them. We will give a capital Indian story here in proof of this.
The jaguars are very fond of ostrich meat, but unfortunately, though their speed is so great, it is almost impossible for them to run the birds down; but the jaguars are cunning animals, and usually obtain by craft what they cannot manage by force. They, therefore, employ the following stratagem. They lie on the ground as if dead, and raise their tails in the air, where they wave them in every direction; the ostriches, attracted by this strange spectacle, approach with great simplicity—the rest may be guessed; they fall a prey to the cunning jaguars.
The hunters after a hurried march of three hours, reached a barren and sandy plain; during the journey, very few words were exchanged between Natah Otann and his white guests, for he rode at the head of the column, conversing in a low voice with White Buffalo. The Indians dismounted by the side of a stream, and exchanged their horses for racers, which the chief had sent to the spot during the night, and which were naturally rested and able to run for miles. Natah Otann divided the hunting party into two equal troops, keeping the command of the first himself, and courteously offering that of the second to the Count. As the Frenchman, however, had never been present at such a chase, and was quite ignorant how it was conducted, he courteously declined. Natah Otann reflected for a few moments, and then turned to Bright-eye:—