Another mode of bison hunting presents a curious analogy with the ingenious method of ostrich hunting which is practised by the Bosjesmans of Southern Africa.
Upon the vast plains of North America the so-called wolves prowl in numbers. They will follow the hunter for weeks together for the sake of the offal of the beasts which he kills. They will not venture to harm him, but follow him by day at a distance of half a mile or so, and at night, when he lies down to sleep, they will couch also at a respectful distance.
Should he wound a bison and not be able to secure it, the wolves are sure to have that animal sooner or later, and if they manage to detach a single bison from the herd, they will fairly persecute the wretched animal to death. But they will never venture to attack a herd of bisons, and, being instinctively aware of the protection afforded by mutual support, the bisons allow the wolves to approach quite close to them, and, indeed, to wander freely among the herd. Of this fact the hunters take advantage in the following manner. They remove the skin of a large wolf, and put it upon themselves, so that when they go on all fours the head of the wolf projects just above their own head, and their arms and legs are partly covered by the skin belonging to the corresponding members of the wolf.
Thus disguised, they creep slowly and cautiously toward the herd, bearing their bow and arrows in their left hands. The bisons, whose eyes are none of the best, being overshadowed by the masses of black hair that overlap them, think nothing of the supposed wolves, and allow them to come quite close. Even if an animal more wary than his comrades does suspect the ruse, the disguised hunter has merely to turn in another direction, as if the creature he represents has no business with the herd. By degrees, he contrives to creep close to the bison which he prefers, and drives the flint-headed arrow to its heart. No report attending the discharge of the arrow, the wounded bison runs for a few paces, and sinks on the ground, mostly without alarming any of its companions. The hunter leaves his dying prey, goes off after another victim, and slays it in a similar fashion. Thus a skilful hunter will manage to exhaust the whole of his stock of arrows, killing a bison with each arrow, and yet not alarm the rest of the herd.
Both in hunting and in warfare the equestrian warriors always carry the lasso attached to the saddles of their horses. It is not, however, kept coiled, as is the case in Mexico, but is allowed to trail on the ground behind their horse. The object of this custom is easily understood. It often happens that, whether in the hunt or warfare, the rider is thrown from his horse. In such a case, as soon as he touches the ground, he seizes the lasso, stops his well-trained horse with a jerk, leaps on its back, and is at once ready to renew the combat or the chase.
The mode in which the natives supply themselves with horses is worth a brief description. In various parts of the country the horses have completely acclimatized themselves, and have run free for many years, so that they have lost all traces of domestication, and have become as truly wild as the bison and the antelope, assembling in large herds, headed by the strongest and swiftest animals. It is from these herds that the natives supply themselves with the horses which of late years have become absolutely necessary to them; and in most cases the animals are captured in fair chase after the following manner:—
When an American Indian—say a Camanchee—wishes to catch a fresh horse, he mounts his best steed, and goes in search of the nearest herd. When he has come as near as he can without being discovered, he dashes at the herd at full speed, and, singling out one of the horses, as it gallops along, hampered by the multitude of its companions, flings his lasso over its neck.
As soon as the noose has firmly settled, the hunter leaps off his own steed (which is trained to remain standing on the same spot until it is wanted), and allows himself to be dragged along by the affrighted animal, which soon falls, in consequence of being choked by the leathern cord.
When the horse has fallen, the hunter comes cautiously up, keeping the lasso tight enough to prevent the animal from fairly recovering its breath, and loose enough to guard against its entire strangulation, and at last is able to place one hand over its eyes and the other on its nostrils.
The animal is now at his mercy. He breathes strongly into its nostrils, and from that moment the hitherto wild horse is his slave. In order to impress upon the animal the fact of his servitude, he hobbles together its fore-feet for a time, and casts a noose over its lower jaw; but within a wonderfully short period he is able to remove the hobbles, and to ride the conquered animal into camp. During the time occupied in taming the horse, it plunges and struggles in the wildest manner; but after this one struggle it yields the point, and becomes the willing slave of its conqueror. Those who have seen the late Mr. Rarey operate on a savage horse can easily imagine the scene that takes place on the prairie.