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A Buffalo Hunt. 
In 1881 my brother Robert and I started from 
our ranch in Dakota the first part of December 
to be absent about two weeks. Our neighbors 
had been out and got a winter’s supply of buf¬ 
falo meat, and we thought we would do the 
same. We procured two rifles and after prac¬ 
ticing we were ready for game. We took three 
ponies and started. Striking the Little Missouri 
we followed up the river twenty miles and went 
over the divide to Little Powder River. This 
trip occupied five days, and we traveled twenty- 
five miles a day. We expected to find game 
over there and asked a cowman we met on the 
road if there was any game near by. He said: 
“No, but you will find plenty up the river forty 
or fifty miles.” We traveled up stream two 
was going into the tree where it had burned a 
hole into the hollow of the tree. In a few 
minutes the tree would fall and set the whole 
prairie on fire, and probably come down on our 
wagon. It was just the distance off to receive 
a crushing. 
We got in our horses, harnessed and hauled 
the wagon away, and then picked up most of 
our camp equipage and grabbed a sack each and 
ran to the water to get them wet to fight the 
fire with. The grass was at least fourteen inches 
high and as thick and dry as could be. We had 
no sooner done this than down came the tree 
right where our wagon had stood, and of all 
the lively times we ever had it was for the next 
few minutes. It seemed as though it was im¬ 
possible for us to stop the flames. They were 
everywhere at once. Llowever, we conquered it 
could not get nearer) he shot at it, and in an 
instant the buffalo took after him. I have seen 
Robert run before in foot races, but I never 
saw him throw so much energy into it as he did 
on this occasion. He fairly flew. He might 
have touched the ground occasionally, but from 
where I was I could not swear to it. But he 
still hung on to the “Long Tom.” All at once 
he came to a ravine or washout about fifteen 
feet deep and the sides w*ere perpendicular. He 
hesitated a moment, and then glancing around 
saw that the buffalo wfis pretty close. He 
jumped down and sat on the brink, intending 
to jump over if the buffalo came right up. In 
the few moments he had to wait for develop¬ 
ments he slipped a cartridge into the chamber 
of his gun and prepared to jump or shoot. 
When the buffalo got within a few feet of 
LARGE STONE LIFTED BY A BUTTERNUT TREE. 
AN OAK THAT REFUSES TO BE UPROOTED. 
From photographs by Charles A. Allen. 
days and then made camp. We had a good time, 
the weather was fine, and there was plenty of 
grass for our horses. 
We had seen several coyotes, but did not 
shoot at any or anything. We had a little ex¬ 
perience that night which was laughable after 
it was ‘over, but quite the reverse just at the 
time. We had found a splendid place to camp 
and hauled our wagon up close to a large cot¬ 
tonwood tree, about forty feet high and two feet 
six inches diameter and perfectly dry. After 
unharnessing our horses and picketing them out, 
we lit a fire close to the tree, so that the smoke 
would follow up the tree instead of into our 
eyes, as it had been in the way of doing. We 
had nearly cooked our supper, when all at once 
we heard a tremendous roar. Robert looked at 
me and I at him for a moment without saying 
a word, and then as the sound seemed overhead 
we looked up and there was a stream of fire 
coming out between the main forks of the tree 
about twenty-five feet high like a blast furnace. 
We looked at our camp-fire and the whole blaze 
at last and learned a lesson we shall not soon 
forget. 
The next day we went to some hills about 
two miles from camp and could see any number 
of buffalo, herd after herd, on the hills and in 
the valleys. We crawled within fifty yards of a 
herd of about fifty and commenced shooting at 
them. They did not know where we were, and 
all rushed together in one bunch and stood there. 
We kept on shooting until we had fired from 
fifteen to twenty cartridges each, and then de¬ 
cided that we must have killed a dozen. We 
rose so they could see us, and as soon as they 
did they scampered off over the hills. We 
looked around to see how many dead ones there 
were, and lo, not a single one. They had all 
gone. 
We were thunder struck and could not imagine 
why we had not killed any. Looking around, 
Robert spied a lone buffalo down in a low place 
and said: “I am going down to see if I can’t 
get that fellow.” 
When he got at about 200 yards from it (he 
Robert in his charge he must have noticed the 
ravine, for just as Robert was sliding off, the 
animal wheeled about and disappeared. Robert 
caught himself by the grass and drew himself 
back before he was over-balanced. I asked him 
afterward why he did not shoot as soon as the 
buffalo wheeled off, and he said he was per¬ 
fectly satisfied to have come out of it as he 
did without any more trouble. 
We hunted for four days and could not kill 
a buffalo. Game was very plentiful, and we had 
no trouble at all to get plenty of shooting. Sev¬ 
eral times in those four days deer would jump 
up and run off at a distance of about 100 yards 
and stand and look at us, but we would not 
shoot because we thought if we could not kill 
a buffalo at fifty yards we could not kill a deer 
at 100 yards. 
The next morning as we were trudging to the 
hills Robert said: “Now, to-day let us both 
shoot at the same buffalo and see if we cannot 
kill it.” It was not long before we sighted buf¬ 
falo, and in half an hour we were within fifteen 
