and
before he had been on the prairie a year there were few men who could
kill more buffalo than he.

Once, when I was riding Brigham, and Webb was mounted on a splendid
thoroughbred bay, we discovered a band of Indians about two miles
distant, maneuvering so as to get between us and the town. A gallop of
three miles brought us between them and home; but by that time they had
come within three-quarters of a mile of us. We stopped to wave our
hands at them, and fired a few shots at long range. But as there were
thirteen in the party, and they were getting a little too close, we
turned and struck out for Hays. They sent some scattering shots in
pursuit, then wheeled and rode off toward the Saline River.

When there were no buffalo to hunt I tried the experiment of hitching
Brigham to one of our railroad scrapers, but he was not gaited for that
sort of work. I had about given up the idea of extending his usefulness
to railroading when news came that buffaloes were coming over the hill.
There had been none in the vicinity for some time. As a consequence,
meat was scarce.

I took the harness from Brigham, mounted him bareback and started after
the game, being armed with my new buffalo killer which I had named
"Lucretia Borgia," an improved breech-loading needle-gun which I had
obtained from the Government.

As I was riding toward the buffaloes I observed five men coming from
the fort. They, too, had seen the herd and had come to join the chase.
As I neared them I saw that they were officers, newly arrived at the
fort, a captain and four lieutenants.

"Hello, my friend!" sang out the captain as they came up. "I see you
are after the same game we are."

"Yes, sir," I returned. "I saw those buffaloes coming. We are out of
fresh meat, so I thought I would get some."

The captain eyed my cheap-looking outfit closely. Brigham, though the
best buffalo horse in the West, was decidedly unprepossessing in
appearance.

"Do you expect to catch any buffaloes on that Gothic steed!" asked the
captain, with a laugh.

"I hope so."

"You'll never catch them in the world, my fine fellow. It requires a
fast horse to overtake those animals."

"Does it?" I asked innocently.

"Yes. But come along with us. We're going to kill them more for the
sport than anything else. After we take the tongues and a piece of the
tenderloin, you may have what is left."

Eleven animals were in the herd, which was about a mile distant. I
noticed t