The sea of fire was scarce half a mile from me, when the ashes passed over my head, and granted me a full look at it. The flames right and left, far as eye could see, lay obliquely over the ground and stretched out their quivering tongues for at least fifty feet over the grass. They darted forward with frightful rapidity, and caught up countless animals flying before them, whose wearied limbs could no longer carry them along quickly enough. Three old buffaloes collected their last strength to reach my knoll, but at the foot of it the flames closed over them, I saw them rear, fall back, and disappear. The heat was stifling; I and my horse,—who, trembling all over, yielded to his fate—turned our backs to it, and the stream of fire passed us on both sides, crackling and hissing.
Gradually daylight returned, and the sky became blue over my head. Thousands of large and small predaceous birds followed the flames, and fell now and then in them. On all sides lay the black carcases of the countless victims which this prairie fire had destroyed, and many animals struggling with death were rolling in their agony on the plain. Czar and I were completely covered with ashes. I now mounted my horse to get away as quickly as possible from this scene of destruction and death, and reach the green forests of the Leone by the straightest line. I rode down to the three buffaloes, two of which were not dead and strove to rise, but fell back powerless on the earth. It was a fearful sight offered by these burned monsters, and their frightened snapping for air and blind rolling of their heads induced me to put an end to the pain of the poor tortured creatures. I put a bullet through each of their flat foreheads, and after reloading, I rode in a southern direction towards the Leone.
I saw many animals still wrestling with death on both sides of the road, and might have expended the whole of my ammunition in trying to help them out of their agony. Most of the burnt animals were buffaloes and deer, but I also saw a bear and a horse and a number of wolves lying lifeless on the ground.
My road over the black, bare, burnt fields of desolation was tiring, and my horse was so worn out that I frequently dismounted and led him: although the wind was no longer so violent, it brought with it a quantity of fine ashes, and rendered both seeing and breathing difficult. I frequently came across birds of prey, whose wings only displayed the bare quills, the feathers being burnt off: they sate helpless and wretched on the ground, and tried in vain to rise into the air when I approached them. These birds regularly follow the prairie fires in large numbers, in order to eat its countless small four-footed denizens, after the fire has passed over them, and either rendered them helpless or killed them. They looked at me in terror with their large rolling eyes, spread out the quills of their wings, and uttered a complaining cry. I went past them as I could not help them.
About a mile from the wood on the Leone I saw, to my great surprise, on my right hand a very large deer and a horse walking together across the plain to the wood. They tottered along slowly side by side, and seemed not to notice me at all. I rode up to them: I fancied they had been blinded by the fire, but it was not so; for they now stopped and gazed at me with their bright eyes, as if imploring me not to prevent them from reaching the wood. Both were slightly scorched, though the horse had lost mane and tail: they appeared to have suffered more from excessive exertion, and to be yearning for the water of the Leone. I could easily have killed the deer, but I pitied the creature, and besides did not care to eat its hunted flesh or put a further load on Czar. Hence I quitted the poor creatures, and reached the wood, which is not very broad here; and soon after the river, where Czar refreshed himself for a long time in the cool waters.
Annually nearly all the western prairies are burnt by the Indians, towards spring: when they leave the south and go north to hunt they fire the old grass, so that when they return in autumn they may find on these extensive plains fresh food for their large troops of horses and mules. They have, however, I fancy, another motive. If these plains were not singed with fire, a perfectly different vegetation would arise on them within a few years. Trees and bushes would rapidly grow up and convert the prairies into an impenetrable chapparal or forest, which would be very troublesome to the horse Indians, in their hunts and journeyings. In this way, however, fire destroys every growth but that of grass. If a sapling springs up in spring from seed borne thither by the wind or by animals, it is burnt down in autumn. Prairie fires are generally dangerous neither to men nor beasts, as the fire, with an ordinary wind, advances very slowly, and over a limited region. If you arrive at very tall grass where the fire would kill, you have always time to get away from it; and when the grass is not unusually high, you can always find a spot to leap over the flames. If the storm is accompanied by rain the grass does not burn at all, hence, only a hurricane with a clear sky, as is not rare among us in autumn, produces in alliance with the fire such destruction among the occupants of the steppe.
It was evening when I reached home, tired and without booty. My people had seen, by the smoke which covered the sky over them, that the prairie was on fire, and they were very anxious about me on account of the violent storm. I soon sought my bed, and slept till the sun rose. Czar would not get up when I went into his stall; while my other horses and mules, with the exception of Fancy and the cream-colour, who stood in the large enclosure round the fort, had been grazing for some time outside, fastened to their long lassos. I made Czar rise, led him down to the river, where I gave him a good swim, and then led him back to the rich grass, where, however, he soon lay down again in the shade of an elm.
The day was fine and perfectly calm, and as we had no fresh meat, I determined to procure some, without tiring myself excessively. The prairie hens had already collected in large coveys, and I had lately seen very many of these pretty birds in the neighbourhood of the fort. Hence I resolved to try my fortune with them; saddled the cream-colour, took my shot gun, and rode out with Tony, a spaniel.
These hens are very like our heath-powts in size, shape, and manner of life, save that they have golden red plumage, and the cocks are ornamented with a yellow and black collar, like the golden pheasant. They are extraordinarily shy, and fly off in a straight line when approached. If you follow them they sit closer, and after being put up a few times, they settle down separately in the tall grass, where they hide themselves till the dog puts them up with its nose.
I had not ridden very far when a covey of about fifty got up before my dog, and settled again about half a mile farther on the prairie. I rode up to them, leapt from my horse, followed the dog, and again the covey got up at a long distance. I fired both barrels among them, but was too far off to hurt them much with my rather small shot; they flew some distance, and I saw them settle on a mosquito-tree, so I reloaded and rode slowly towards it, when the dog stood; I leapt off, went up to it, and ordered it on: the hens rose, and I brought down seven of them with my two barrels, while I looked after the rest, and saw them settle separately not far from me. I now hobbled my horse and sought the hens concealed in the grass, and in half an hour shot some twenty of them.