474 1fcfn00 of tbe 1Ro^ IRffle, an& (Bun 



slid uncommonly fast on our waistcoats until we were 

 safe under cover. When there, we lay for a few moments, 

 convulsed with laughter at our own haste to get back 

 out of sight, and then re-charged our rifles. The moment 

 we had loaded, we crawled back to the short grass, and 

 took a look at the position of our foe. The least rise of 

 our heads ought to have afforded us a sight of him had 

 he remained on his legs ; but no, so higher and higher 

 went our brows, till at last we saw the monster extended 

 on the plain upon his side with his head towards us, 

 and, on attaining to our feet, we found that he was 

 dead." 



Berkeley writes of this feat with gusto, as if he were 

 proud of it, as no doubt he was. And yet, when 

 you compare it with the way in which William Cotton 

 Oswell and Sir Samuel Baker killed their big game, 

 how paltry it seems! 



The net result of Berkeley's sporting tour is thus 

 summed up by Wilkes's New York Spirit of the Times : 



" HON. GRANTLEY F. BERKELEY. This gentleman 

 will probably be in New York a few days. He met 

 with success, and enjoyed himself finely. He set out 

 with his company from Westport, Missouri, on the 

 25th Sept. ; they started out on the Santa Fe" route 

 until they heard of the Indian depredations, when they 

 changed their course to the northward. They went to 

 Fort Riley, where they were joined by two officers of 

 the U.S. army, and then made for Smoky Hill Fork, 

 250 miles west of the Missouri. Here they met with 

 buffalo in abundance. During the first day the 

 Englishman met with poor success, owing to an attack 



