THE BISON 185 



hoofs and in a cloud of dust, the buffaloes soon begun 

 to pass but a few feet away, and moving close to my 

 pony,* which was held by an orderly, I picked out a 

 handsome bull, almost black in color, and fired at his 

 shoulder, aiming with both eyes open as I would at a 

 rabbit or flying bird. At the shot the huge animal 

 pitched forward and fell headlong. The shot was 

 fatal. The bull was dead when its head struck the 

 ground. Upon examination I found my ball (which 

 was fired from a Springfield rifle such as the soldiers 

 used) had passed entirely through the bison, breaking 

 his shoulder-blade. The ball, much mushroomed, was 

 held by the hide on the far side, which it pressed out- 

 ward so as to be quite noticeable. I cut the ball out, 

 and taking the tongue, we rode on. I regretted much 

 that I could not stop and secure the robe, which was 

 the finest I ever saw in color and texture. We de- 

 sired, however, to be near the command and must 

 keep moving. Our photographer, who had been 

 shooting at the herd in the valley, killed five animals 

 in a short run and ceased firing when they rushed up 

 the steep incline, to ride away and overtake the sol- 

 diers, not even stopping for a tongue. 



Shortly after I killed the bull, my orderly asked me 

 to kill a calf. A large number of yellow calves of 

 various sizes were passing with their mothers, and I 

 proceeded to shoot at them ; they were not easy marks 

 as they bounded along and the range was constantly 

 increasing, since the herd crowded away from us as I 

 fired. After trying a number of shots I handed the 



* I found the Indian ponies the best animals on which to run buffaloes. 

 They seemed to enjoy it. 



