Jeffers Petroglyphs It was a hot summer day. Not a cloud in the sky, and the wind was blowing up a red dust filled haze across the open prairie. You could taste the grit being blown into your face. The family had not eaten in hours. We'd tracked the long hunt path past the petroglyphs, around the fields of prairie grasses and wildflowers back to the watering hole. It seemed hopeless. When scanning the the northern horizon from within the man made shelter we spotted our prey. Not more then 100 yards from the back door of the trading post, standing there in the prairie was the lone buffalo. I stalked my way into the fenced in channel which protected onlookers from the charge should it come. To my wandering eyes I located an atlatl and the projectiles at the end of my journey. I load up my first quarrel and set it flying, the 30 mile wind pulled it hard to the left and it dropeed behind my target giving it no warning of my intent. I quickly loaded a second and thanks to the nearsightedness of the beast he did not see the projectile clear him and land in the field beyond. I loaded up my third quarrel and took careful aim and just grazed the buffalo's back. He stood there in shock and that is when my fourth projectile flew threw the air and pierced his heart. A perfect throw, unmatched in the previous couple weeks of many attempts by others. And that my friends is how you earn the coveted piece of parchment naming you a buffalo hunter out at the Jeffers Petrogrlyphs.
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