348 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



ren said: "Betcher there's more'n ten hundred millions!" 

 You may take Warren's estimate or mine, as you prefer, 

 or you may go there and try to count the tracks of that 

 great herd, I don't care; but I will assert that that 

 there was a big lot of buffalo out there in the open air of 

 that Kansas prairie one day in the fall of 1858. That 

 herd was too big for a few men on ponies to stampede, 

 and we put in the spurs and got alongside. Those on 

 the outside took the alarm, and pressed on without other 

 effect than to cause the others next them to think they 

 were pressing for better forage. Amos had told me to 

 pick a barren cow if I could find one, a fat young cow 

 that had no calf near her, and to keep a sharp eye in the 

 rear, and not get mixed in the herd, or there would be 

 a dead man and a dead pony. 



There was then the spice of danger in this hunt! It 

 began to be more interesting. I had thought it would be 

 sufficient to make the trip and study the types of men, 

 see a herd of buffalo with its flankers and rear-guard of 

 wolves ready to capture a weak straggler, or a calf that 

 strayed too far; but now that there was danger there was 

 a promise of sport. Hotspur truly says: 



"The blood more stirs 

 To rouse a lion than to start a hare." 



Our party had stretched out over two miles on the 

 flank of the herd, which was moving slowly in the mass, 

 but more swiftly near the hunters, and an occasional shot 

 was heard. My pony would not take me too near; he 

 had evidently seen a herd of buffalo before, and I only 

 feared danger in the rear. It was getting to be interest- 

 ing, and after I had singled out my game and tried to get 

 alongside it, with no other buffalo intervening, it was 

 exciting. 



