TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 135 



our acquaintance, following us and stamping their feet all 

 the while, as though they regarded us as intruders in their 

 country, and were bent on having a settlement ; but we 

 were after buffaloes and did not heed them. 



A march of two days brought us to the head of Razor 

 Creek, where the Sioux had camped, to steal all the ponies 

 they could find and appropriate the game, which was scarce 

 in the vicinity. We made our camp in a secluded spot, 

 among thick pines that kindly hid us from view. Early the 

 next morning, after a hard tug, we reached the top of the 

 range between the Yellowstone and Musselshell, and, with 

 perspiration oozing from every pore,, we gazed upon the 

 country for miles around. Finally our eyes fell upon five 

 large buffalo bulls, not far off. Sneaking up a snag in the 

 hill, we came within three hundred yards of them and opened 

 fire, when they made off like the wind and soon disappeared, 

 leaving a cloud of dust behind. We hunted until we were 

 too tired to hunt longer, and started empty-handed for 

 camp. 



Presently a large black-tail deer crossed a little bank, 

 about fifty yards ahead of us. We started after him with all 

 the speed we could make. When I reached the bank, I 

 saw the buck and four others that he had just met, about 

 to climb a hill. I fired and the shot made the hills resound. 

 The buck turned with a bound and fell dead. An old doe 

 turned to see what could be the matter, stopped, raised her 

 head and stuck up her large ears, her black eyes shining 

 like two great beads. The instant she paused, my Winches- 

 ter spoke to her, and, as the smoke cleared away,, I saw her 

 lying on the ground, her neck broken just below the ear. 



Steward stood like one petrified, making no motion to 

 shoot. The other three went on climbing the hill. With 

 rapid shots I brought two of them down, and, as the fifth 



