STORY OF A BUFFALO HUNT. 305 



old stories and anecdotes. As we were talking of the 

 prairies, Conwell told us one of his adventures after 

 buffaloes. 



" Not many years ago, when I lived in the Kickapoo 

 prairie, in Missouri, four of us set out one morning to 

 shoot buffaloes. It was bitter cold, and we rode rapidly 

 over the frozen ground. On gaining an elevation, we 

 descried a herd in the distance, and made towards them. 

 "S^Tien about half a mile from them they discovered us, 

 and ran off, we after them helter-skelter. The hind- 

 most was a cow, too fat to keep up with the others, so 

 we all singled her out for our mark. After galloping 

 for about a mile, she received all our balls, and fell, 

 when we secured her. The wind was now blowing 

 from the north-west, almost cold enough to freeze the 

 marrow in our bones, and the dry buffalo dung, the 

 only fuel in the jDrairies, made but a poor fire. The 

 nearest wood was about a mile from tlie place where 

 the cow fell, and a debate arose whether we should 

 fetch the wood to the buffalo, or carry the buffalo to 

 the wood. AYe thought the latter easier. One of the 

 party, named Turner, began to strip off the skin ; we 

 offered to help him, but he would not permit it ; so, 

 willingly leaving the cold work to him, we made as 

 good a fire as we could for him to warm his hands by. 

 When the skin was off, we cut off the prime pieces, 

 took the marrow-bones, packed them in the skin, threw 

 them over a horse, and brought them to the nearest 

 Avood, where we luckily found water. Our four 

 tomahawks soon cut wood enough, and we made a 

 roaring fire; when it was burnt to charcoal we stuck 

 26* 



