huge bull which led them. The Indians call the buffalo
leader the 'Weetah,' the master of the herd. It was sure death to go
near this one. So I shipped in another Weetah, hoping that he might
whip some of the fight out of old Manitou, the Mighty. They came
together head on, like a railway collision, and ripped up over a square
mile of landscape, fighting till night came on, and then on into the
night.

"I jumped into the field with them, chasing them with my biograph,
getting a series of moving pictures of that bullfight which was sure
the real thing. It was a ticklish thing to do, though knowing that
neither bull dared take his eyes off his adversary for a second, I felt
reasonably safe. The old Weetah beat the new champion out that night,
but the next morning they were at it again, and the new buffalo finally
whipped the old one into submission. Since then his spirit has remained
broken, and even a child can approach him safely--but the new Weetah is
in turn a holy terror.

"To handle buffalo, elk and bear, you must get into sympathy with their
methods of reasoning. No tenderfoot stands any show, even with the tame
animals of the Yellowstone."

The old buffalo hunter's lips were no longer locked. One after another
he told reminiscences of his eventful life, in a simple manner; yet so
vivid and gripping were the unvarnished details that I was spellbound.

"Considering what appears the impossibility of capturing a full-grown
buffalo, how did you earn the name of preserver of the American bison?"
inquired Wallace.

"It took years to learn how, and ten more to capture the fifty-eight
that I was able to keep. I tried every plan under the sun. I roped
hundreds, of all sizes and ages. They would not live in captivity. If
they could not find an embankment over which to break their necks, they
would crush their skulls on stones. Failing any means like that, they
would lie down, will themselves to die, and die. Think of a savage wild
nature that could will its heart to cease beating! But it's true.
Finally I found I could keep only calves under three months of age. But
to capture them so young entailed time and patience. For the buffalo
fight for their young, and when I say fight, I mean till they drop. I
almost always had to go alone, because I could neither coax nor hire
any one to undertake it with me. Sometimes I would be weeks getting one
calf. One day I captured eight--eight little buffalo calves! Never will
I forg