208 BUFFALO LAM). 



volver, which she fired occasionally, but with un- 

 certain aim, one of the bullets indeed whistling our 

 way. The chase constituted the excitement that she 

 Bought, and the pistol was little more than a spur to 

 urge it on. 



"That's Ann, poor P — 's wife," said our guide. 

 " Crazy since the Indians killed her husband. He 

 was a contractor on the railroad ; his camp used to 

 be just above Hays. She lives in the old "dug-out" 

 on the line yet, and spends half her time chasing 

 buffalo. She never kills none, but that isn't what 

 she is after. She wants to be moving, and just as ' 

 wild as she can; it sort o' relieves her mind." 



The huntress had seen our outfit, and rode toward 

 us. The face was a very plain one, with a vacant 

 yet anxious expression, and the tightly-drawn skin 

 seeming scarcely to cover the jaw-bones. She halted 

 before us, and commenced conversation at once. 



" Good day, gentlemen." 



" Good day, madam." 



" She always tells her story to every body," mut- 

 tered the guide in a low voice. 



" Have you seen any Cheyennes hereabouts, gen- 

 tlemen? I sighted a party this morning, and you 

 ought to have seen them run. Raven Dick, here, 

 put his best foot foremost, but they shook him out of 

 sight in a ravine. Have n't any thing better to do, 

 friends, and so I 'm riding down some buffalo." 



We could easily understand why superstitious 

 savages should run when a maniac female of such 

 dismal aspect flitted along their trail. 



11 Out from Hays, sirs ? " she continued, after a 



