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‘Twas A Ride For Life.

A Western Man’s Tale of a Buffalo Hunt.

It happened in the winter of 1869-70, began the old hunter and plainsman, when the subject of buffaloes was brought up. It was a bad winter in my country and the mercury was well down on the short-cut to China. The buffaloes had taken refuge in mighty herds in the country around the Porcupine River, which is one of the tributaries of the Yellowstone. One day the word reached our camp that a herd was grazing about two miles distant, and our men got together for a hunt. I knew the country about like a book, and instead of going with the rest of the boys started on a short-cut across a hog back and into the next valley where the buffaloes were said to be. I rode some distance, but did not see the herd. Suddenly I heard shots. A regular chorus of bangs rang out. I turned my horse’s head in the direction of the shooting and made up my mind to ride back and join the crowd. But my plans wouldn’t work. They had fired into the bunch from the other side and had stampeded it. The maddened animals, and there were fully one thousand of them, were tearing over the snow, jumping ravines and dashing towards me at a terrific pace. Behind the herd the cracks of the guns rattled.
The valley was narrow and the sides steep. I did not have time to get out. There was only one thing to do-fly and keep ahead of the herd until I found an opening in the hills. It was a furious ride. The snow here and there had been made soft by the sun and it was very treacherous under the horse’s hoof. Suddenly, when the leaders of the herd were about 200 yards behind, my pony stumbled and turned a somersault and I was thrown a considerable distance into a snowdrift. My rifle was strapped upon the saddle and I had no time to go back and get it, for the herd was upon us. I fired my pistol at the leaders and they slackened their speed a little. But one old bull looked at me a minute and then made a dash. When he ducked to impale me on his horns I dodged and caught his shaggy wool and was soon astride his back. This made him mad and he tried his best to unseat me, but I held on. The pressure of the herd behind him compelled him to run for his life.
I knew my only hope was to stick to that uncomfortable seat until I had ridden the beast to death. By and by the pressure behind began to slacken and my bull wanted to rest, but I spurred him on. It was 3 o’clock when I mounted him. About 2 o’clock the next morning he began to wabble. He lurched a few times and then stumbled to his knees. He rolled over and before I had time to save myself my left leg was under him. At last I got free and managed to cut his throat. I then took my bearings and found I was a hundred miles from camp. I made myself comfortable and feasted on buffalo steak. Before long the boys came up to where I was sitting. They had found the carcass of my horse and had kept on in the hope of finding that of myself. The herd must have turned off through some break in the hills, for my bull was the only one left in sight.

Mermaid, Or Sea Cow.

An animal or fish answering the description of a mermaid, has just been carried into New York, from the river Amazon, where it was caught. It is now for exhibition in that city. A naturalist who examined it, says it is an exceedingly timid and inoffensive animal, and soon abandons places frequented by man. It feeds on aquatic plants exclusively, and sleeps in shallow streams, with its head out of water. The flesh is highly esteemed, resembling veal in its flavor. The female brings forth two at birth. It seems very imperfectly, but the defect is amply compensated by the extreme acuteness of its hearing. It has teats on its breasts. It is between four and five feet long, and so gentle as to take food such as hay, straw, grass and other vegetables from the hand. In seizing its food it uses both its hands, also its curiously shaped extensible under lip, its body terminates in a broad rounded tail or fin, and is covered thinly with short hairs.
Philadelphia American.

Cattle.

The express train on the New Albany $ Salem road ran into a drove of Cattle near Reynold’s station, in Indiana, throwing the engine bottom up into the ditch, but not until it had made mince meat of 14 of the bovines. Fortunately no person was injured by the accident.

Distressing Details Of The Great Storm In Minnesota.

The details of the great storm in Minnesota are heart sicking. The reports from different sections indicate terrible loss of life and property.
In Winnebago City fully sixty teams had gathered from the surrounding country. Farmers with their wives were there, having left their little children at home, in many instances alone, little dreaming of the fearful danger so near at hand. Suddenly, and without any warning, the storm burst in all its fury. A panic ensued. Teams were hurridly hitched up, and fathers and mothers, fearing for the fate of their dear helpless ones at home, started off in the face of the pitiless wind and driving snow. Those who had to face the storm, in a number of cases, were compelled to turn back, thankful to have got back to the village alive. Others kept on, and, it is feared, met a terrible death in the snow drifts.
From Tuesday afternoon at two until Thursday evening at seven o’clock, the storm raged in all its fury. The buildings in the village were shaken like reeds, and fears were entertained that some of them would blow over. The air was so densely filled with snow that a building ten feet distant could not be seen. Rumors were numerous of those missing, but up to Friday morning no dead bodies had been found.
A young man had gone a mile or two from Garden City on Tuesday with a yoke of oxen and a load of hay. On Friday the oxen were found, but there were no tidings of the young man.
At Mankato a man named Wolverton was found frozen to death on the opposite side of the river from the city.
There was a report at Mankato, seemingly well authenticated, that a party of eight persons and a team of horses were found on the wagon road between Madelia and St. James, all frozen to death. The team was standing up and the driver had froze in his seat. The other seven persons were found in the bottom of the sleigh covered with blankets but frozen still in death. This seems like a horrible story, but it was generally credited at Mankato.
A man and two yoke of oxen were found southwest of St. James frozen stiff; name not given. A man and two boys and one yoke of oxen were found seven miles north of St. James. A man and a yoke of oxen were found within three miles of St. James. The unfortunate man had driven his team through the dooryard of a house, passing within ten feet of a shelter without discovering it in the storm. He was found only a few rods from the house, lying partly across his cattle.
A man and his wife [it is supposed] were found within three miles of Madelia. It appears that the man had unhitched his team and started out to find his house, which was only a short distance away, leaving his wife in the sleigh. He got lost in the storm and perished. His wife became alarmed after waiting awhile, also started from the sleigh, and met the same fate. The horses were frozen. The bodies were found on Friday.
A party of section men were at work four and a half miles from St. James when the storm struck them. The party, with one exception, managed to reach the village alive. They supposed their comrade had perished, and on Thursday afternoon they started out to find his body. After a lengthy search they found him asleep in a snow-bank, where he had lain 44 hours. On being aroused, the first question he asked was whether breakfast was ready. The second request was for a “chew of tobacco.” He had his shovel with him, and had dug out in the bank of snow a perfect set of rooms, which exercise undoubtedly saved his life.

A Faithful Dog.

Amid all the horrors reported, Mr. Hunsaker had one pleasant incident to relate. Among the section men mentioned above, was one who lived several miles from St. James. Of course, he was unable to reach home, and his wife became alarmed for his safety, and he was uneasy about his family. Imagine his joy on Thursday when a shepherd dog belonging to him came bounding into St. James with a little leather bag attached to his collar, in which was a letter from his wife containing the joyful intelligence that they were all well at home, and asking for news of her husband. Another letter was written informing the wife that the husband was safe, and would return home as soon as he could reach there. The letter was placed in the leather bag, and the faithful animal told to “go home.” Away started the almost human animal, through the fearful storm and snow drifts, and arrived safely at home with the precious news so anxiously looked for by the waiting wife and mother. This same dog was also sent with a letter to a sick neighbor and brought back an answer. That the dog is not for sale.
On Tuesday afternoon a man living some three miles from New Ulm came into that place after a doctor for his wife, who was about to be confined, leaving her alone at home. The storm was so terrible that no doctor would venture out, but one promised to go the next morning. Efforts were made to induce the man to remain in town, but he said his wife was alone and he must go back. Poor man! He never saw his home again, his frozen body being found about half way home. The next day the doctor managed to reach the house, where he found that the poor woman had given birth to a child, and both were frozen dead.
On Saturday last seventeen coffins were taken out of New Ulm to bury the dead bodies found in the immediate vicinity of that place. At Lake Heuskey, six miles from Lake Crystal, the bodies of 13 persons had been found frozen to death.
A teacher near New Ulm kept his forty scholars from Tuesday evening until Friday, walking a mile or more, through the storm to get food for them. A farmer living near Evansville, who had started to go to the mill was found frozen to death.
A young man and his wife and father were on their way home and were overtaken by the storm and lost their way. The men left the sleigh to find the road, and probably perished. The woman also started, after a time and was found so badly frozen that she can not recover. The team was found but one horse was dead.
A team of stage horses belonging to Blakely & Carpenter, going from Glennow to Morris, driven by Don Phelps, were frozen at New Prairie post-office, on Tuesday night. Phelps had arrived at the station, but the snow blew so fiercely and drifted in around the station door so fast that two men could not shovel it away so as to get the door open. The horses perished during the night.
A man and boy went out on Tuesday from Scandia, seven miles northeast of Morris, for a load of wood. The team was found on Friday frozen. No tidings of either man or boy. Names unknown. A Norwegian named Fladeland started from Morris on Tuesday for his home in Scandia. Up to Friday neither man nor team had been heard from.

Wolves.

The weather and the depth of the snow for a few days past have been strong temptations to many of our citizens to enjoy the sport of running down prairie wolves. [coyotes] The sportsman mounts his horse, and with a good “hickory” club, pursues the animal into the prairies, where he generally overtakes, and despatches him. In fact, many of our country sportsmen have exhibited a very “wolfish Disposition” on the occasion, and the destruction of wolves, in consequence, has been very great

Sagacity Of Elephants.

The battering train going to the siege of Seringapatam had to cross the sandy bed of a river, that resembled other rivers of the Peninsula, which have during the dry season, but a small stream of water running through them, though their beds are mostly of a considerable breadth, very heavy for draught, and abounding in quick sands. It happened that an artillery man, who was seated on the limber of one of the guns, by some accident fell off, in such a situation that in a second or two, the hind wheel must have gone over him. The elephant, which was standing behind the gun, perceiving the predicament in which the man was, instantly, without any warning from its keeper, lifted up the wheel with its trunk, and kept it suspended until the carriage had passed clear of him.
Military Adventures.

A Child Saved By A Dog.

A few days since the family of Dr. Crofoot, the dentist, who resides on the corner of Crown and Temple st., missed a promising boy of the Doctor’s about four years old. After the unsuccessful search around the house, the child was finally found, drenched and in a state of insensibility on the edge of a cistern, which had been left open. By the side of the boy, licking his face of his apparently lifeless charge, was a Newfoundland dog, belonging to to Dr. Crofoot. It was supposed that the child had fallen into the cistern, which was filled within two feet of the top, and been rescued by the noble animal. After considerable effort the child was restored to consciousness. He immediately informed his parents that their surmises were correct, and that he owed his life to the intelligence and presence of his faithful guardian, who hearing his outcries, seized him by the hair and dragged from his dangerous bath. Such an animal is invaluable. [New Haven Palladium.

A Raven.

An English paper speaking of the death of a raven 28 years old, says: This singular bird was bred in Grove Park, and could talk as plain as any man, so far as his knowledge extended. In point of imitation he could mimic anything he ever heard. Like many others of his tribe, he was exceedingly mischievous, but generally amusing. But his master piece was his correct repetition of the Lord’s prayer, which for emphasis and distinct enunciation, would have been no discredit to many village schoolmaster.

Hiving A Swarm.

In a neighborhood of Hereford, England, recently a swarm of bees settled under the bonnet of a little girl, down the side of her face, and round her throat. Fortunately the child stood still, and the bees were hived without her receiving a single sting.

Grey Squirrels.

A correspondent of the Philadelphia North American, writing from the borders of Lake Champlain, confirms a statement made by Dr, Morse in his well known geography, and which has by some been regarded as fabulous. He says:
“A word on the instinct of the squirrels here. When they wish to move from one island to the other, they watch the wind till it blows in the right direction, and you will see them in dozens coming to the beach, each with a large piece of bark in his mouth, which he launches, and then jumping on board, turns up his tail for a sail, and over he goes to the port of destination. I might have shot them while making sail, but it looked to me as something almost wicked.