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Updated: May 7, 2025
What you were to me years ago on the wally-by-track and the buffalo-trail, you are now, and I'm the same also: M'Gann and Lawless, and no other." "Well, then, Lawless, it's true enough as he says it, for I've seen more than wan skin brought in, though I niver clapped eye on the beast alive.
Lord Faramond twisted a shoulder with satisfaction, tossed a whimsical look down the line of the Treasury Bench, and from that Bench came unusual applause. "Where the devil did he get it?" queried a Minister. "Out on the buffalo-trail," replied Lord Faramond. "Good fellow!"
They were on their way after some, and some water, undoubtedly, and perhaps they knew a reason why there should be an ancient buffalo-trail in that direction, trodden by generation after generation of their grass-eating race. The boy was a born hunter, and knew that he was lurking in the right place, and he drew back farther and under deeper and more perfect cover, hardly seeming to breathe.
What you were to me years ago on the wally-by-track and the buffalo-trail, you are now, and I'm the same also: M'Gann and Lawless, and no other." "Well, then, Lawless, it's true enough as he says it, for I've seen more than wan skin brought in, though I niver clapped eye on the beast alive.
There was something in the appearance of the landscape ahead that led to the belief that water was not far distant; and, sure enough, it was not; for, on mounting the crest of a prairie-swell, over which ran the buffalo-trail, a small rivulet was espied in the glen below.
Then, year after year, through more pawing, licking, rolling, and wallowing by the animals, the wind wafts more of the soil away, and soon there is a considerable hole in the prairie. Many an old trapper and hunter's life has been saved by following a buffalo-trail when he was suffering from thirst.
For decades the road had been a buffalo-trail, a foot wide and half as deep, that, in the dry season, guided the herds in single file from the caking meadow to the distant waters of the Missouri; then the travee poles of Indian tribes gave it the semblance of a wagon track, the centre of which was worn bare by the hoofs of laden ponies and the feet of trudging squaws; and, finally, the lumbering carts of traders, the Studebakers of settlers, and those heavier wagons that roll in the rear of marching men, made of the track a plain and hardened highway.
Moreover, by following the buffalo-trail, they would be likely to fall in with other skeletons of these animals; and all apprehensions on the score of food now vanished from their minds. Another fact, which the skeleton of the buffalo revealed to them, added to their joyful anticipations. They had observed on first going up to it that the bones were still fresh!
Lord Faramond twisted a shoulder with satisfaction, tossed a whimsical look down the line of the Treasury Bench, and from that Bench came unusual applause. "Where the devil did he get it?" queried a Minister. "Out on the buffalo-trail," replied Lord Faramond. "Good fellow!"
I found a buffalo-trail cut through the deep bank, narrow and precipitous, and down this I went, arriving in a short time within a little distance of my supposed soldiers' camp. When I had reached the middle of another deep cut in the bank, I looked across to the island, and, great Caesar! saw a hundred little fires, around which an aggregation of a thousand Indians were huddled!
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