The Birkenhead News and Wirral General Advertiser. — 1886-01-13 (Birkenhead, Merseyside, England)

THE GRANDEST SIGHT OF OF THE PLAINS.  I had camped near the forks of the Platte, and was roused just at daylight by footsteps around me. After listening for a moment I felt sure that they were the footsteps of horses. They seemed to be circling around me—not at a canter—not at a trot, but at a moderate walk. It was well I had secured my horse in a thorough manner, for I never saw him so excited. He tugged and pulled at his lariat, stood up on his hind legs, neighed and snorted and pawed and pranced, and it was his actions that gave me a clue to the identity of my visitors. They were wild horses! Had they been Indian ponies my trained horse would have remained as dumb and silent as a post. Indeed, Indians would not have approached me in that manner. I remained very quiet, hoping the horses would remain in sight until daybreak should give me a good view of them. I had to wait for a full hour, but when the light grew strong the spectacle was one to make a man's blood tingle. The circle had been enlarged until it was half a mile across, and my little camp was the center. Every horse, and there were 129 of them, stood with his head to this center, and soldiers could not have taken positions on the skirmish line in more precise order. I pitied my own animal. He stood with the lariat drawn taut and trembled in every limb, and he was as wet with sweat as if I had galloped him twenty miles. I realized how he must long to break away and join the wild rovers and for ever end his drudgery. I dared not rise to my feet for fear of alarming the drove, but, nevertheless, I had a clear view of each horse. Most of them were magnificent animals. Manes down on their shoulders and tails on the grass. They were of various colours, and they ranged in age from the yearling colt up to the veterans probably twenty years old. The bays pre. dominated, but every colour was present. We had been observing each other about ten minutes, when a jet-black stallion, who was the leader of the herd, gave a snort, threw up his heels into the air and broke off at a gallop, followed by the drove in single file. They ran in a true circle, and made the circuit five times before stopping. Then, at another signal from the leader, the circle broke, and the horses wheeled into a long, single lice, or " company front." Troop horses could not have done better. I thought at first the line meant to charge me, but at a signal it made a left wheel and galloped straight off on the plain for a mile. Then it broke,assumed the shape of a triangle, and returned. When the leader was within pistol-shot he wheeled out and the horses formed in a square, with the four yearlings in the centre. They galloped off for a mile or so, broke again, and returned in two ranks. I had an almost irresistible desire to kill the leader with a bullet. Indeed, I reached for my rifle with that intent, but then came the reflection that it would be little short of murder. Such another perfect horse I had never seen. His black coat shone like silk, his limbs and body were perfection. and he had the speed and bottom of a racehorse. Not a halt was made for a full hour, and then it was only preparatory to take a swift departure. The last rnanceuvre was a circle at a slow trot, and each horse whinnied in a coaxing manner to my own stead. Poor Slim! i He struggled n the most frantic manner to break loose, and when finding all his efforts of no avail he threw himself down on the grass and actually groaned his disap pointnignt. I rose up then and waved my blanket. Instead of rushing off in affright, as I expected, the leader of the band deliberately approached me a few rods and stood and snorted and pawed ELE if sending forth a challenge. Then I set up a shouting, waved the blanket still more, and he took his place at the head, formed the band at "company front," and they went off at a gallop and maintained it as long as I could see the waving line.—Detriot Ire.. Pre...  Mll.