led before dark. Buffalo signs had been seen shortly before the
creek was reached, and when old Indian signs were found near the camp
site, the day's excitement took on new life. A broken lodge-pole, some
odds and ends of tanned hides and a discarded moccasin, somehow
overlooked by the Indians' dogs, were discovered near the blackened
spots on the prairie where camp-fires had burned. The night passed
quietly, every sentry flat against the earth and trying to rob the
senses of smell and touch to enrich those of sight and hearing.

In leaving the creek, the two column formation was abandoned and the
wagons rolled up the little divide in four evenly spaced divisions.
There was some semblance of flankers and a rear guard now, and even the
cannons were not forsaken. Then came the great moment.

Two hours after the creek had been left the first herd of buffalo was
sighted. That it was a small one and more likely to provide tough bull
rather than fat cow, made no difference; rear guard, flankers, and
cannon were forgotten in one mad, frantic, and ridiculous rush. Men
dashed off toward the herd without even their pistols. In ten minutes a
moderate sized war-party could have swept down on the caravan and had
things nearly their own way. There would have been no buffalo meat in
camp that night except that the experienced hunters with the advance
guard managed to down two cows and three bulls before the yelling,
excitement-maddened crowd stampeded the little herd and drove it all
over the prairie.

One tenderfoot, better mounted than his fellows, managed to keep up with
a running bull, firing ball after ball into it as fast as he could
re-load. He was learning that a bull-buffalo was a hard animal to kill,
and when it finally wheeled and charged him, he also learned that it was
willing to fight when goaded and made desperate with wounds. Another
greenhorn, to get better aim, dismounted and knelt on the earth. With
the roar of his gun his horse, with all its trappings, gave one snort
and ran away, joining the herd and running with it. It was an hour
before anyone had time to listen to his entreaties, and then it was too
late to go after the runaway animal. He hoofed it back to the caravan,
an angry but wiser man, and was promptly robbed by the man from whom he
bought a horse.

It was an open question whether buffalo tongue or beaver tail was the
better eating, but no one in the caravan had any fault to find with the
portions of