dicted that in a few years the race will become extinct. The
same has been often said of the Indian. The _soi-disant_ prophet is
addicted to this sort of melancholy foreboding, because he believes by
such babbling he gains a character for philanthropic sympathy; besides,
it has a poetic sound. Believe me, there is not the slightest danger of
such a destiny for the Indian: his race is not to become extinct; it
will be on the earth as long as that of either black or white.
Civilisation is removing the seeds of decay; civilisation will preserve
the race of the red man yet to multiply. Civilisation, too, may
preserve the buffalo. The hunter races must disappear, and give place
to the more useful agriculturist. The prairies are wide--vast expanses
of that singular formation must remain in their primitive wildness, at
least for ages, and these will still be a safe range for the buffalo.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

TRAILING THE BUFFALO.

After a breakfast of fresh buffalo-meat we took the road in high
spirits. The long-expected sport would soon come off. Every step
showed us "buffalo sign"--tracks, wallows, fresh ordure. None of the
animals were yet in sight, but the prairie was filled with undulations,
and no doubt "a gang" would be found in some of the valleys.

A few miles farther on, and we came suddenly upon a "buffalo road,"
traversing the prairie nearly at right angles to our own direction.
This caused a halt and consultation. Should we follow the road? By all
means thought every one. The tracks were fresh--the road a large one--
thousands of buffaloes must have passed over it; where were they now?
They might be a hundred miles off, for when these animals get upon one
of those regular roads they often journey at great speed, and it is
difficult to overtake them. When merely browsing over the prairie the
case is different. Then they travel only a few miles a day, and a
hunter trailing them soon comes up with the gang.

Ike and Redwood were consulted as to what was best to be done. They had
both closely examined the trail, bending down to the ground, and
carefully noting every symptom that would give them a clue to the
condition of the herd--its numbers--its time of passing--the rate of its
speed, etcetera.

"Thur's a good grist o' 'em," said Ike, "leastways a kupple o' thousand
in the gang--thur's bulls, cows, yearlins, an' young calf too, so we'll
have a choice o' meat--either beef or veal. Kin we