536 



occasions they rendered us valuable assistance, which is hereby grate- 

 fully acknowledged. 



We saw no buffalo, nor any signs of any, until October 13. On that 

 day, while L. S. Russell was escortiug our second load of freight across 

 the High Divide, he discovered a band of seven buffaloes lying in the 

 head of a deep ravine. He fired upon them, but killed none, and when 

 they dashed away he gave chase and followed them 2 or 3 miles. Being 

 mounted on a tired horse, which was unequal to the demands of the 

 chase, he was finally distanced by the herd, which took a straight course 

 and ran due south. As it was then nearly night, nothing further could 

 be done that day except to prepare for a vigorous chase on the morrow. 

 Everything was got in perfect readiness for an early start, and by day- 

 break the following morning the three cowboys and the writer were 

 mounted on our best horses, and on our way through the bad lands to 

 take up the trail of the seven buffaloes. 



Shortly after sunrise we found the trail, not far from the head of Calf 

 Creek, and followed it due south. We left the rugged butte region 

 behind us, and entered a tract of country quite unlike anything we had 

 found before. It was composed of a succession of rolling hills and deep 

 hollows, smooth enough on the surface, to all appearances, but like a 

 desert of sand-hills to traverse. The dry soil was loose and crumbly, like 

 loose ashes or scoriae, and the hoofs of our horses sank into it half-way 

 to the fetlocks at every step. But there was another feature which was 

 still worse. The whole surface of the ground was cracked and seamed 

 with a perfect net-work of great cracks, into which our horses stepped 

 every yard or so, and sank down still farther, with many a tiresome 

 wrench of the joints. It was terrible ground to go over. To make it 

 as bad as possible, a thick growth of sage-brush or else grease-wood 

 was everywhere present for the horses to struggle through, and when 

 it came to dragging a loaded wagon across that 12-mile stretch of "bad 

 grounds" or "gumbo ground," as it was called, it was killing work. 



But in spite of the character of this ground, in one way it was a bene- 

 fit to us. Owing to its looseness on the surface we were able to track 

 the buffaloes through it with the greatest ease, whereas on any other 

 ground in that country it would have been almost impossible. We fol- 

 lowed the trail due south for about 20 miles, which brought us to the 

 head of a small stream called Taylor Creek. Here the bad grounds 

 ended, and in the grassy country which lay beyond, tracking was almost 

 impossible. Just at noon we rode to a high point, and on scanning the 

 hills and hollows with the binocular discovered the buffaloes lying at 

 rest on the level top of a small butte 2 miles away. The original bunch 

 of seven had been joined by an equal number. 



We crept up to within 200 yards of the buffaloes, which was as close 

 as we could go, fired a volley at them just as they lay, and did not even 

 kill a calf! Instantly they sprang up and dashed away at astonishing 



