BUFFALO AND DUCK SHOOTING 289 



ing there. The belt belonged to a man he killed ; 

 fellows told me about it." 



"What fellows?" 



"Fellows that were hunting him. They came 

 along in an hour or two, thanked me for saving 

 them trouble, ate a big dinner, and were going 

 away when I called them back. 'When a man 

 saves you the trouble of killing your own meat, do 

 you expect him to bury it, too?' said I. They 

 apologized, borrowed a shovel, dug a nice grave, 

 put him in, and covered him up handsomely." 



"How near do you suppose I can get to those 

 buffalo?" I asked, pointing to a herd that began 

 a quarter of a mile away and ended at the 

 horizon. 



"Near as you like. I'll go with you." 



We walked a short distance in the open, then 

 took to a ravine that brought us within little more 

 than a hundred yards of the herd. From there 

 we crept on hands and knees through the short 

 grass, stopping whenever there were signs of 

 alarm or the buffaloes nearest us looked too stead- 

 ily our way. We were about forty yards from 



