Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1859-07-09
LAST OF THE BUFFALO.
RIS1NGER's CREEK, Station No. 13, }
Pixies Peak EXPRESS Co. Nav 81. $50. {


would rather not bore the public with
Buffalo. l fully realize that the subject is
not novel-that Irving, and Cooper, and
many others, have written fully and ad
mirably upon it; and that the traveller:
enthusiastic recital falls coldly on the eaI
OF the distant, critical, unsympathizinq
reader. Yet insist on writing this once
more on Buffalo, promising then to drop
the subject, as we pass out of the range OF
the Buffalo before night. All day yester-
day, they darkened the earth around us,
often seeming to be drawn up like an army
in battle array on the ridges and adowu
their slopes mile or so south of us-ofteu
on the north as we'll They are rather shy
OF the little screens of struggling timber
on the creek bottoms-doubtless from their
sore experience of Indians lurking therein
to discharge arrows at them as they went
down to drink. If they feed in the grass
OF the narrow valleys and ravines, they are
careful to have part of the herd on the
ridges which overlook them, and with them
the surrounding country for miles. And,
when an alarm is given, they all run furious
ly off in the direction which the leaders
presume that of safety.
This is what gives us such excellent OBJ
portunlties for regarding them to the best
advantage. They are moving northward,
and are still mainly south of our track
Whenever alarmed, they set off on their
awkward but effective canter to the great
herds still south, or to haunts with which
they are comparatively familiar, and where
in they have hitherto found safety. Of
course, this sends those north of us across
our way, often but a few rods in front of
us, even when they had started mile a.
way. Then a herd will commence running
across hundred rods ahead of us, and, the
whole bllndly following their leader, we will
be close upon them before the last will
have cleared the track. OF course, they
sometimes stop and tack, or, seeing us, sheer
off and cross further ahead, or split into
two lines; but the general impulse, when
alarmedj is to follow blindly and at full
speed, seeming not to inquire or consider
from what quarter danger is to be appre-
hended.
What strikes the stranger with most a,
mazement is their immense number. / know
a million is great many, but l am conf
dent we saw that number yesterday. Ger
taiuly, all we saw could not have stood on
ten square miles of ground. Often, The
country for miles on either hand seemed
quite black with them The soil is rich,
and well matted with their faVorits grass.--
Yet it is all Except very little on the
creek bottoms, near to TIMBER eaten down
like an oVertaxed sheep pasture in August.
Consider that we have traversed more than
one hundred miles in width since we first
struck them, aud that for most of this dis
tance the Buffalo have been constantly in
sight, and that they continue for some 25
miles further on-this being the breadth of
their present range, which has a length OF
perhaps thousand miles, and you have
some approach to an idea Of their count
less millions. l doubt whether the domes-
ticated horned cattle Of the United States
equal the numbers, while they must fall
considerably short in weight, of these wild
ones. Margaret Fuller long ago observed
that the Illinois prairies seemed 10 repel the
idea Of being new to civilized life and in.
dustry-that they, with their borders oI
trees aud belts of timber, reminded the
traveller rather Of the park and spacious
fields Of an old country like England
that you were constantly on the involuntary
lookout for the chateaux or at least ths
humber farm-houses, which should diyersi
fy such a scene. True as this is OF was II
| Illinois, the resemblance is far more strik