The Scalp Hunters | Page 7

march; our horses were still fresh, and
in three times as many minutes, the three miles that lay between us and
the game were reduced to one. Here, however, we were winded. Some

of the party, like myself, green upon the prairies, disregarding advice,
had ridden straight ahead; and the bulls snuffed us on the wind. When
within a mile, one of them threw up his shaggy front, snorted, struck
the ground with his hoof, rolled over, rose up again, and dashed off at
full speed, followed by his four companions.
It remained to us now either to abandon the chase or put our horses to
their mettle and catch up. The latter course was adopted, and we
galloped forward. All at once we found ourselves riding up to what
appeared to be a clay wall, six feet high. It was a stair between two
tables, and ran right and left as far as the eye could reach, without the
semblance of a gap.
This was an obstacle that caused us to rein up and reflect. Some
wheeled their horses, and commenced riding back, while half a dozen
of us, better mounted, among whom were Saint Vrain and my voyageur
Gode, not wishing to give up the chase so easily, put to the spur, and
cleared the scarp.
From this point it caused us a five miles' gallop, and our horses a white
sweat, to come up with the hindmost, a young cow, which fell, bored
by a bullet from every rifle in the party.
As the others had gained some distance ahead, and we had meat enough
for all, we reined up, and, dismounting, set about "removing the hair."
This operation was a short one under the skilful knives of the hunters.
We had now leisure to look back, and calculate the distance we had
ridden from camp.
"Eight miles, every inch!" cried one.
"We're close to the trail," said Saint Vrain, pointing to some old
waggon tracks that marked the route of the Santa Fé traders.
"Well?"
"If we ride into camp, we shall have to ride back in the morning. It will
be sixteen extra miles for our cattle."

"True."
"Let us stay here, then. Here's water and grass. There's buffalo meat;
and yonder's a waggon load of 'chips.' We have our blankets; what
more do we want?"
"I say, camp where we are."
"And I."
"And I."
In a minute the girth buckles flew open, our saddles were lifted off, and
our panting horses were cropping the curly bunches of the prairie grass,
within the circles of their cabriestos.
A crystal rivulet, the arroyo of the Spaniards, stole away southward to
the Arkansas. On the bank of this rivulet, and under one of its bluffs,
we chose a spot for our bivouac. The bois de vache was collected, a fire
was kindled, and hump steaks, spitted on sticks, were soon sputtering in
the blaze. Luckily, Saint Vrain and I had our flasks along; and as each
of them contained a pint of pure Cognac, we managed to make a
tolerable supper. The old hunters had their pipes and tobacco, my friend
and I our cigars, and we sat round the ashes till a late hour, smoking
and listening to wild tales of mountain adventure.
At length the watch was told off, the lariats were shortened, the
picket-pins driven home, and my comrades, rolling themselves up in
their blankets, rested their heads in the hollow of their saddles, and
went to sleep.
There was a man named Hibbets in our party, who, from his habits of
somnolency, had earned the sobriquet of "Sleepy-head." For this reason
the first watch had been assigned to him, being the least dangerous, as
Indians seldom made their attacks until the hour of soundest sleep--that
before daybreak.
Hibbets had climbed to his post, the top of the bluff, where he could

command a view of the surrounding prairie.
Before night had set in, I had noticed a very beautiful spot on the bank
of the arroyo, about two hundred yards from where my comrades lay. A
sudden fancy came into my head to sleep there; and taking up my rifle,
robe, and blanket, at the same time calling to "Sleepy-head" to awake
me in case of alarm, I proceeded thither.
The ground, shelving gradually down to the arroyo, was covered with
soft buffalo grass, thick and dry--as good a bed as was ever pressed by
sleepy mortal. On this I spread my robe, and, folding my blanket
around me, lay down, cigar in mouth, to smoke myself asleep.
It was a lovely moonlight, so clear that I could easily distinguish the
colours of the prairie flowers--the silver euphorbias, the golden
sunflowers, and the scarlet malvas, that fringed the banks of the arroyo
at my feet.