NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. No. CCXXIV. JANUARY, 1869.-VOL. XXXVIII. THERE'S a city vast yet voiceless, growing ever street on street, II. There are traders without traffic, merchants without books or gains; III. Ships sail past this silent city, but their owners quiet lie, And no signals fly from top-tree 'gainst the glowing, crimson sky, For the Fleece is sailing by. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by Harper and Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York. VOL. XXXVIII.-No. 224.-10 IV. Here the belle forgets the fashions, mindless of her snow-white dress; V. Hushed are all these many mansions, barred and bolted door and gate; Narrow all the walls and earthy, and the roof-trees steep and straight; Rich and poor here equal mate; Room for all!-the high and lowly. VI. Equal dwell and equal mate. Flowers are blooming near these mansions, kissed by loving dews at night; Breathing softly round their porches, flowing through the cooling light; Pealing from their bells sweet music, pealing odors pure and white: Pealing only to the night. VII. Here each keeps his well-ceiled dwelling, fearing naught of quarter-day; VIII. Paying never quarter-day. Beckons ever this mute city to its comrade living gay; To its comrade laughing loudly, sitting on the pulsing bay, IX. Thus two cities grow forever, parted by a narrow tide, This the shadow, that the substance, growing by each other's side; FLOWERS ARE BLOOMING NEAR THESE MANSIONS, KISSED BY LOVING DEWS AT NIGHT. THE American bison, or buffalo, the ani A somewhat extended investigation leads me Tmag here familiarly designated, differs in to believe that the bison once ranged as far east very many prominent points from the European bison and the Indian buffalo of Asia and Afriса. It has a pair of ribs more than the European bison, and two pair more than the domestic ox. The limbs and tail of the American bison are much shorter than those of any of the bison species, unless, indeed, we except the musk-ox, which inhabits the coldest regions of this continent. as the Atlantic sea-board in Virginia and the Carolinas, but there is no evidence that they ever reached points to the east of the Hudson River or Lake Champlain. From Catesby we learn that about the year 1712 herds of buffalo were to be seen within thirty miles of Charleston, South Carolina. At present, however, if one desires to do buffalo hun ing he must journey something like It is at this season, too, that the young bulls promote themselves, by establishing a retiring board and driving the old and useless officers out of the herd. This expulsion is final, as after being thus driven out the old bulls wander singly or in small bands over the Plains. At times they may tarry in the vicinity of a herd, but I have never known them to join one permanently. two thousand miles westward from the Atlan- | combats by an admiring concourse of wolves, tic coast. A few English gentlemen recently who are ever ready to come in at the death of undertook a buffalo hunt among the Catskill either of the combatants, or will even take a Mountains, and in the neighborhood of Coving- chance in and finish any killing that has been ton, Kentucky, but in each case failed to find imperfectly done. the game of which they were in quest. These gentlemen should now go to Leavenworth, Kansas, and from thence proceed west by the Union Pacific Railroad, Eastern Division, or, as it is familiarly known in the Western country, "the Smoky Route." Then they may find the buffalo herds, hunt them, and perhaps be hunted by them too, if they prove no better buffalo hunters than some of the Britons that I have seen scutter away chased by a wounded bull. Neither will the party need the permit which an English gentleman who had journeyed across the Atlantic in quest of sport was anxious to obtain. Could any thing be more absurd to an American than to have, as once I did, a person ask, "Ah, and could you favor me with the person's name who would kindly furnish me with a permit to hunt the buffalo? Are they carefully preserved? They should be." The best hunting-ground at present will be found between the Republican and Arkansas rivers. For days I have traveled pony-back over this section of the Plains, when at any moment I could glance in some direction and look upon vast herds of buffalo. There may be some little objection to this hunting ground arising from the fact that it is the favorite one of the most unreliable Indians that range the Plains, and you are safe only so long as you are not discovered by these same aborigines. From the last of July until the first of September the buffaloes are engaged in settling family matters for the year to come. The bulls fight viciously, and are attended during these The leader of a buffalo herd is generally a splendid-looking young bull, who, having fought himself into his position, holds himself ready to maintain his rank by the same prowess that has gained it. This party, it may be needless to remark, has now and then a fight on his hands, or may be, to speak very correctly, horns. The buffalo cow carries its calf eleven months, July being in Indian parlance "the moon of heat and buffalo pappoose." The buffalo continues to grow until it is seven or eight years old, and ordinarily lives, if unmolested, to reach the age of twenty-five or thirty years. I once saw a buffalo killed (by a green hunter) which, judging from the rings upon the horns and other signs of age, must have been nearly if not quite fifty years old. The meat, I may remark, was a little tough. The average gross weight of grown bulls is about twenty-five hundred pounds. I once killed a buffalo that weighed over three thousand pounds gross. Old bulls are not often killed by the experienced hunter, as the beef of the younger members of the herd is far preferable as food, it being more tender and free from the decidedly disagreeable and rank flavor | sufficiently close to the trains to be killed by noticeable in the tough old bull-beef that novices are apt to select as their game. The young calf is very light in color. This changes and deepens as fall gives way to winter, and the chill, keen winds of the Plains begin their frosty song, "More hair, more hair." Will Comstock used to aver this to be the burden of the music of the breezes; "for," he would say, "don't you see how quickly the Indian beef puts on his thick coat? That is undoubtedly the reason why he does it." During the winter season the hair is of a rich brown color. This coat of hair is shed from the flanks and sides, as well as considerably thinned out about the head and shoulders, during the next summer; and the fall of the second year sees it darker and more luxuriant than during the season previous. Once past the prime of life and the hair becomes tinged with a rusty brown. Will Comstock used to designate these as "old moss-backs," which could not carry any of his lead, and might be good coyote bait, but not the kind that he bit at if he had any choice in the matter. But the tongues, tender-loin, and hump of such a buffalo are not to be despised, and the rest of the beef would not be considered tough by the frequenters of some of the restaurants of Gotham. A few months since passengers on the way to Denver and Salt Lake, by the Smoky Hill route, had frequent opportunities of seeing herds of buffalo from the cars of the Union Pacific Railroad, and on several occasions the buffalo were shots from the car windows and platforms; the engineer being accommodating enough to slow the locomotive sufficiently to keep pace with the buffalo, which were seemingly engaged in a race with the iron horse. When buffalo were killed the train was stopped, the game secured being granted a free ride in the baggage-car. It would seem to be hardly possible to imagine a more novel sight than a small band of buffalo loping along within a few hundred feet of a railroad train in rapid motion, while the passengers are engaged in shooting, from every available window, with rifles, carbines, and revolvers. An American scene, certainly. The feeding-ground of the buffalo is usually located at some distance from the streams at which they quench their thirst. If undisturbed. the buffalo frequently graze for days in the same vicinity, moving once each day, usually at evening, toward the water. At this time it is a picturesque sight to see them; each band is being led by its chief, and the whole herd by "a leader." Flankers are thrown out; the cows and calves are in the centre of the herd, which moves slowly. Many of the buffalo are formed in lines of greater or less numbers. Their heads are down, frequently so low that the long, matted beard drags and brushes the ground. They seem satisfied that the sentinels are doing their duty, and that any sign of danger would be quickly noted and signaled to the herd. Some hunters have told me that the buffalo is supplied with a sort of internal reservoir, by |