Part 14 (2/2)

_Brian._ There can be nothing in the world like a burning prairie, unless it be a burning mountain.

_Hunter._ A burning prairie, when we are near it, is a vast and overwhelming spectacle; but every rising and setting sun exhibits Almighty wisdom, power and goodness, on a scale infinitely beyond that of a hundred burning prairies. It is a good thing to accustom ourselves to regard the works of creation around us with that attention and wonder they are calculated to inspire, and especially to ponder on the manifestation of G.o.d's grace set forth in his holy word.

When burning prairies and burning mountains shall be all extinguished; when rising and setting suns and all earthly glory shall be unknown; then shall the followers of the Redeemer gaze on the brighter glories of heaven, and dwell for ever with their Leader and their Lord.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Buffalo Dance.]

CHAPTER XI.

Buffaloes, bears, wild horses, wolves, deer, prairie-dogs and musk-rats, were a fruitful source of conversation to the young people in their leisure hours, until such time as they could again visit their interesting friend at the cottage. Various plans were formed to attack grizzly bears, to catch wild horses, and to scare away half-famished wolves; in all of which, Jowler, notwithstanding his bad behaviour at the buffalo hunt, was expected to act a distinguished part. Black Tom was scarcely considered worth thinking about, he being too wild by half for a wild horse, and too faint-hearted for a grizzly bear. At one time, it was so far determined for him to play the part of a prairie-dog, that Austin set about digging a hole for him: before it was finished, however, the plan was abandoned; Brian and Basil both feeling positive that, let Austin dig a hole as deep as he would, Black Tom would never be persuaded to run into it.

After much deliberation, catching wild horses being given up--on the score that Black Tom would run away too fast, and Jowler would not run a way at all--a bear hunt was resolved on, having, as Brian observed, two especial advantages: the first, that all of them could enjoy the sport at once; and the second, that Jowler would be sure to attack them all, just like a grizzly bear.

No time was lost in preparing their long spears, and in dressing themselves as much like renowned chiefs as their knowledge and resources would allow. And, in order that Jowler might the more closely resemble a grizzly bear, a white ap.r.o.n was spread over his broad back, and tied round his neck. The lawn was, as before, the scene of their exploits, the prairie on which the fearful monster was to be overcome; and, to the credit of their courage be it spoken, neither Austin, Brian nor Basil, manifested the slightest token of fear.

Jowler was led by them among the bushes of the shrubbery, that he might burst out upon them all at once; and this part of the arrangement answered excellently well, only that Jowler arrived on the prairie first instead of last; add to which, the bushes having so far despoiled him of his grizzly hide, the white ap.r.o.n, as to have pulled it off his back, he set to work mouthing and tearing at it, to get it from his neck. At last, in spite of a few untoward and unbearlike actions on the part of Jowler, the attack took place. With undaunted resolution, Austin sustained Jowler's most furious charges; Brian scarcely manifested less bravery; and little Basil, though he had broken his lance, and twice fallen to the earth, made a desperate and successful attack on his fearful antagonist, and caught him fast by the tail. It was on the whole a capital adventure; for though they could not with truth say that they had killed the bear, neither could the bear say that he had killed them.

The bear hunt being at an end, they set off for the cottage; for the hunter had promised to describe to them some of the games of the Indian tribes, and he was soon engaged in giving them an account of the ball-play of the Choctaws. ”At the Choctaw ball-play thousands of spectators attend, and sometimes a thousand young men are engaged in the game.”

_Hunter._ It is played in the open prairie, and the players have no clothes on but their trowsers, a beautiful belt formed of beads, a mane of dyed horse-hair of different colours, and a tail sticking out from behind like the tail of a horse; this last is either formed of white horse-hair or of quills.

_Brian._ And how do they play?

_Hunter._ Every man has two sticks, with a kind of hoop at the end, webbed across, and with these they catch and strike the ball. The goal on each side, consisting of two upright posts and a pole across the top, is set up twenty-five feet high; these goals are from forty to fifty rods apart. Every time either party can strike the ball through their goal, one is reckoned, and a hundred is the game.

_Basil._ What a scuffle there must be among so many of them!

_Hunter._ When every thing is ready for the game to begin, a gun is fired; and some old men, who are to be the judges, fling up the ball in the middle, half-way between the two goals.

_Brian._ Now for the struggle.

_Hunter._ One party being painted white, every man knows his opponent.

No sooner is the ball in the air, than a rush takes place. Every one with his webbed stick raised above his head; no one is allowed to strike or to touch the ball with his hands. They cry out aloud at the very top of their voices, rush on, leap up to strike the ball, and do all they can to help their own side and hinder their opponents. They leap over each other, dart between their rivals' legs, trip them up, throw them down, grapple with two or three at a time, and often fall to fisticuffs in right earnest. There they are, in the midst of clouds of dust, running, striking and struggling with all their might; so that, what with the rattle of the sticks, the cries, the wrestling, the b.l.o.o.d.y noses, the bruised s.h.i.+ns, the dust, uproar and confusion, such a scene of excitement is hardly to be equalled by any other game in the world.

_Brian._ How long does the game last?

_Hunter._ It begins about eight or nine o'clock in the morning, and sometimes is scarcely finished by sunset. A minute's rest is allowed every time the ball is urged beyond the goal, and then the game goes on again till it is finished. There is another ball-play somewhat resembling this, which is played by the women of the Prairie du Chien, while the men watch the progress of the game, or lounge on the ground, laughing at them.

_Austin._ Do they ever run races?

_Hunter._ Yes, and very expert they are. Many of the tribes are extravagantly fond of horses. You see an Indian, with his s.h.i.+eld and quiver, his ornamented s.h.i.+rt, leggins, and moca.s.sins; his long hair flowing behind him, or his head-dress of the war-eagle tailing gracefully nearly to his heels; his lance in his hand; and his dress ornamented with ermine, sh.e.l.ls, porcupine quills and a profusion of scalp-locks; but you see him out of character. He should spring on a horse wild as the winds; and then, as he brandished his lance, with his pendent plumes, and hair and scalp-locks waving in the breeze, you see him in his proper element. Horse-racing among the Indians is an exciting scene. The cruel custom, of urging useful and n.o.ble animals beyond their strength, is much the same in savage as in civilized life; but the scene is oftentimes more wild, strange, and picturesque than you can imagine.

_Austin._ Ay, I remember that the Camanchees are capital riders. I was a Camanchee in our buffalo hunt. Brian, you have not forgotten that?

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