The Last of the Buffalo 



power. Charley, who was a Httle 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 

 falling. Our animals were doing better 

 than we had supposed they could, and were 

 going well and under a pull. I felt that 

 a touch of the spurs and a little riding 

 would bring us up even with the leaders 

 of the buffalo. The pace had already 

 proved too much for several bulls, which 

 had turned off to one side and been passed 

 by. As we flew across the flat, I saw far 

 off a dark line and two white objects, 

 which I knew must be our command. I 

 called to my comrade, and, questioning by 

 the sign, pointed at the buffalo. He nod- 

 ded ; and in a moment we had given free 

 rein to our horses, and were up among the 

 herd. During the ride I had two or three 

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