retreat. I f the train happened not to be in its path, it crossed the track
and stopped; satisfied. I f the train was in the way, each individual bison
went at it with the desperation of despair, plunging against or between
locomotives and cars just as the blind madness happened to take them.
Numbers were killed, but numbers still pressed on, only to stop and stare
as soon as the Obstacle was passed.”
Although when direct and level lines of transit were practicable these
were preferred, bison displayed remarkable activity and agility for animals
of their size in descending and ascending the steep bluffs bordering many
of the prairie rivers ; and even now the gorges made by the herds 'in
breaking down the banks are still visible as mementoes of a vanished race.
Neither would broad and rapid rivers whose currents were encumbered
by masses of ice check the course of the host ; such transits were, however,
frequently accompanied by heavy losses -of life, more Sp ecially when
numbers of animals crowded upon the ice. Arrant stupidity, as in the
instance above cited, seems indeed to^have been one o f the most marked
traits in the life-history of the bison.
In reality, however, timidity may account for much of this apparent
stupidity, although in defence of their young both sexes displayed undaunted
courage. And many anecdotes have been told of the devotion of the
cows to their offspring when threatened by imminent peril. “ The bulls,”
writes Mr. Herrick, “ invariably range themselves about the circumference
of the herd, while the cows and calves remain in the centre. The larger
herds when feeding break up into smaller groups, which preserve the
same arrangement in obedience to instinct. It appears that the notion,
long prevalent, that certain old bulls stand as sentries upon the outskirts
of the herds is fallacious, most observers claiming that it is the females,
with anxiety quickened by the maternal instinct, which are usually the
first to perceive danger. . . . In Mine cases it is the males upon whom
the office of protection devolves, especially in case of attack by wolves.
Wolves were thedonly animals molesting the bison until the advent of
man, and before their numbers were so reduced by hunters these marauders
constantly harassed the herds. . . . When separated from the herd the
mother was often obliged to pass the night in sleepless vigil, pacing
about her sleeping calf.”
In reference to the last statement, there have been observed in many
places on the prairie circles of five Or six feet in diameter of taller and
greener grass than the ordinary sward, which appear tHhave sprung up on
the tracks of a cow thus protecting her calf. Much more rarely similar
half-circles have been noticed, which are attributed to a cow walking
between her recumbent calf on one side and a watchful wolf on the other.
An instance has: alsóBeen recorded where a party of bull® .combined to,
rescue a newly-born calf from the jaws of one of these devqurers. Although
calves doubtless formed the chief prey of the wolves prowling round the
confines of the herd, -it was not by any means to these alone that the
attacks of the latter were'confined. Old, sickly, and wounded individuals
of both sexes from time to time fell victims ; and Catlin has given a sad
picture of a feeble old bull standing on the defensive against a pack of
hungry wolves and gradually succumbing.
In many of their habits bison were more like buffalo than domestic
cattle. In their fondness for rubbing they resembled both ; and traces of
this habit are to be found in the polished surfaces of the few masses of
rock, which project above the level prairies, as wellies in the smoothed
bark of the small number of trees dotted oyer the same. In their partiality
for wallowing in mud they were much more like buffalo. And so
ingrained was this habit that old bulls were accustomed to make “ wallows ”
for themselves when ready-made ones were not to be found. “ Finding in
the low parts of the prairies;.” says Catlin, “ a little stagnant water amongst
the grass, and the ground underneath soft and saturated with moisture, an
old bull lowers himself upon one knee, plunges his horns into the ground,