A Buffalo Story 



On the last day of September, 1871, I joined 

 my regiment, then in camp near Fort Hays, 

 Kansas. At that time the different troops of 

 the regiment had not been assigned to their 

 winter quarters. My own was on its way 

 north from Texas, where it had been stationed 

 since the close of the war. I was extremely 

 anxious to learn what its destination was, for 

 I had never killed any of the large game of 

 the country; in fact, had never fired a rifle 

 except at a target. Should my troop be or- 

 dered to Fort Riley, or Fort Harker, east 

 of Fort Hays, or to Fort Dodge, south of 

 Hays, I feared that my chance of meeting with 

 large game would be doubtful. To my great 

 delight, however, I found that my assignment 

 was to Fort Lyon, situated on the northern bank 

 of the Arkansas River in eastern Colorado. 



On October 12 about 10 a. m., we broke 

 camp and took up our line of march for the 

 west, following the old Smoky Hill stage- 



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