The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-10-18

thousand. Sharp, short bellows notes
of 0 farmland in fifty seconds after the
wolf has wet his fangs with blood, that
flying mass is in motion to get away
from an unknown terror.
The waves rise higher and higher as
the confusion spreads. One instant it
seems as if 10000 solid acres of prairie
were moving bodily away; again waves
rise and fall as the towards behind rush
upon those in front, who want to sniff
the air and learn the danger. In one
minute the alarm runs down the herd
to the leaders, and further than the eye
can see the entire herd is going off at q
mad gallop, heads down, eyes rolling,
and no thought but that of escape. If
Lake Erie were to dash itself against a
wall, the shock would be no greater than
the awful crash with which this mass of
rafting hoofs, sharp horns and hairy
bodies would meet it. The clatter Of
hoofs and rattle OF horns would drown
the noise of brigade of cavalry gallop-
ing over O stone paved road.
Ride out on their trail. Here where
the stampede began the ground is torn
and furrowed as if thousand cannons
had been firing solid shot at targets.
Here and there are calves which had been
gored or crushed, here and there older
animals with broken legs and disabling
wounds. Here, where the herd was
fairly off, you might as we'll hunt for a
gold dollar as blade of grass. You look
for three miles as you look across it. 1t
is trail of dirt and dust and ruts and
burrows, where half on hour ago was a
carpet of green grass and smiling flowers.
The most dreadful cyclone known to Nah
could not have left more horrible scars
behind.
Miles away, on the bank of u winding
and growing river, are three white
topped emigrant wagons. A camp fire
blazes up to boil the ket les. Men,
women and children stand about, peel
ing over the distant mountains at the
setting sun. and glad that their journey
is almost done. Butterflies come aud 20
on lazy wing, the crickets chirp cheerily
in the grass, and the eagles sailing IL
the blue evening air have no warning to
give.
Hank! Is that thunder?
Men and women turn in their tracks
as they look in vain for cloud in the
sky. That rumble comes again as they
look into each others faces. It grows
louder as women turn pale and men
reach for their trusty rifles. The ground
trembles, and afar of comes din which
strikes terror to the heart. "Indians!"
they whisper. No! A thousand time,
better for them if savage Pawnees dared
ride down where those barreled rifles
could speak in defense OF the peaceful
camp.
"a stampede of buffaloes!" gasps one
of the men as he catches sight of the adj
vance guard under the awful cloud of
dust. Rifles are held ready for shot,
and the children climb up on the heavy
wagon wheels to see the strange pro-
cession gallop past.
Here they come! Crack! crack! crack!
from three rifles, and shout as each
bullet tells. Next instant q shaggy head.
followed by O dust. brown body, rushes
through the camp. Then another and
another. The men shout and wave their
arms, the women and children turn pale-
yet.
The roar and din shut out every other
sound, and the wagons jar and tremble
with the conclusion. Now another shag
gy head! another! half a dozenl q score!
hundred! great living wave which
sweeps along with the power of tor
nado, followed by others more fierce and
strong, and the camp is blotted off the
face Of the earth more completely than
by any power OF heaven. Nothing to be
seen, no shout to be heard. Wave fol
lowed wave across the spot, over the
bank, into the stream and across, and
when the last OF the herd has passed the
keenest hunter can find nothing on that
spot of wood or iron, of cloth, or bone.
or flesh, to prove that dozen men, wo
men and children we're there wiped out
of existence and reduced to shre6s and
dust.