almost at the foot of the sand hills which extend the whole
length of the river. They were too far off, however, to permit a chase.
_September 15_ (Wednesday). We encamped on the main Platte, after a
march of twenty-five and three-quarter miles. When we left camp, this
morning, a shaggy brute of a buffalo came very close to the company; he
soon paid the forfeit of his life for his curiosity, being shot by
Lieutenant Alexander. A short time afterward a small herd came close to
us. Lieutenant Alexander gave chase and wounded a fine, large fellow
that ran directly toward us. When he came within range a half-dozen of
us crept toward him, but at the first shot, being hit, he turned about
and ran in a different course. We continued the chase, but were all
recalled to the company except one, who followed the animal, firing at
intervals, and watched by us with intense interest. At last the buffalo
seemed exhausted and stopped, the hunter drawing near him. We saw the
man shoot and saw the beast leap into the air, then turn and charge on
the man who had fired at him. The whole Company started to his rescue,
loading as we ran, and the first few shots turned the buffalo toward
the hills, in which direction he bounded with mighty strides,
notwithstanding the fact that he was riddled with bullets. He was
finished later by some of the men with the train, and brought into
camp.
The valley, on the other side of the river, is literally black with
buffaloes. Soon after we made camp a large fellow waded leisurely
across the river, just in front of the camp, so that we were able to
get a near view of him. He was one of the ugliest of these ugly brutes.
Shot after shot was fired at the animal, yet he stood firm and
resolute, not a motion betraying pain or fear. There was something
noble in the manner in which he faced his persecutors, as though,
knowing he could not reach them, he could yet show them he knew how to
die. Suddenly he curved his tail, a shudder went through his mighty
frame, and he rolled over dead. The men waded out and cut him up. After
dark the wolves finished what the men had left.
_September 16_ (Thursday). We marched twenty-four and a half miles and
camped near Plum Creek. The buffaloes made their appearance in great
numbers; one small herd ran across the road, directly in front of the
train, which sudden charge frightened the mules into a general, though
short-lived, stampede. Nine buffaloes were killed to-day, only
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