FIGHT OF A BUFFALO WITH WOLVES.
A buffalo, lord of the plain,
With massive neck and mighty mane,
While from his herd he slowly strays,
He on green herbage calm doth graze,
And when at last he lifts his eyes
A savage wolf he soon espies,
But scarcely deigns to turn his head
For it inspires him with no dread,
He knows the wolf is treacherous foe
But feels he soon could lay him low,
A moment more and there's a pair
Whose savage eyes do on him glare,
But with contempt them both he scorns
Unworthy of his powerful horns;
Their numbers soon do multiply
But the whole pack he doth defy,
He could bound quickly o'er the plain
And his own herd could soon regain;
His foes they now are full a score
With lolling tongues pant for his gore,
He hears their teeth all loudly gnash
So eager his big bones to crash,
On every side they him infest,
The north, the south, the east, the west
Fierce rage doth now gleam from his eye,
Resolved to conquer or to die,
'Round him they yelp and howl and growl,
He glares on them with angry scowl,
They circle closer him around,
He roars and springs with mighty bound,
And of his powers gives ample proof,
Felling them with horn and hoof,
Though some lay dead upon the plain,
Yet their attack was not in vain,
For they have tasted of his blood,
Resolved it soon shall pour a flood,
He feels that they have torn his hide
And streams gush from each limb and side,
He rushes on them in despair
And tosses them full high in air,
But others rush on him and pull
Down to the earth that glorious bull;
On the flesh of this noble beast
Their bloody jaws they soon do feast,
Full worthy of a better fate
Far from his herd and his dear mate,
Who now do look for him in vain
His bones do whiten now the plain.
BEAR HUNT.
Two youths came over from York state,
Bill Brown and Tom Dawes his mate,
For many months they were wishing
The sport of hunting and of fishing.
They rowed along the lake in punt,
When tired of fishing they would hunt,
At river's mouth they caught fine trout,
In woods close by they saw bear's snout.
In front of her play little chubs,
Fat and slick her darling cubs,
Kind thoughts in their breasts they smother
And cruelly they shoot the mother.
And bullet fearful tore her jaws,
A bloody wound, but with her paws,
Erect in air an awful sight,
She was prepared for her young to fight.
But this did not daunt bold Bill Brown,
With club he tried to knock her down,
But she gave him an awful hug,
With paws she at him fierce did tug.
He would been smothered but for Dawes,
Who rescued him from her great paws,
With club he knocked her on the crown
And thus he saved the life of Brown.