The buffalo never attacks, however, except when wounded. Even the largest droves (the opinion of some travelers to the contrary notwithstanding), though in the wildest career, are easily turned from their course by a single man who may intercept their way. I have crouched in the tall grass in the direct route of a frighted gang, when, firing at them on their near approach, they would spread in consternation to either side. Still their advance is somewhat frightful — their thundering rumble over the dry plain — their lion-like fronts and dangling beards — their open mouths and hanging tongues — as they come on, puffing like a locomotive engine at every bound, does at first make the blood settle a little heavy about the heart.

Commerce of the Prairies (1831–1839), Chapter 27 - Animals of the Prairies