In Buffalo Days 



ting the spurs well in, galloped up the ravine 



and up on the flat; and as we came into view, 



the nearest buffalo, as if propelled by a 



huge spring, were on their feet, and, with 



a second's pause to look, dashed away to the 



north. Scattered over the flat were fifty or 



seventy-five buffalo, all of which, by the time 



we had glanced over the field, were off, with 



heads bending low to the ground, and short, 



spiky tails stretched out behind. We were 



up even with the last of the cows, and our 



horses were running easily and seemed to 



have plenty of reserve power. Charley, who 



was a little ahead of me, called back: "They 



will cross the trail about a mile north of here. 



Kill a couple when we get to it." I nodded, 



and we went on. The herd raced forward 



over the rolling hills, and in what seemed a 



very short time we rushed down a long slope 



on to a wide flat, in which was a prairie-dog 



town of considerable extent. We were on 



the very heels of the herd, and in a cloud of 



dust kicked up by their rapid flight. To see 



the ground ahead was impossible. We could 



only trust to our horses and our good luck to 



save us from fallinof. Our animals were doine 



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