The Buffalo Were Grazing Quietly Along A Meadow In Between
Low, Rolling Hills.
We immediately fell back a short distance and
waited for the wagons, and when they came up there was great activity,
I assure you.
The officers' saddles were transferred to their hunters,
and the men who were to join in the chase got their horses and rifles
ready. Lieutenant Baldwin gave his instructions to everybody, and all
started off, each one going in a different direction so as to form a
cordon, Faye said, around the whole herd. Faye would not join in the
hunt, but remained with me the entire day. He and I rode over the
hill, stopping when we got where we could command a good view of the
valley and watch the run.
It seemed only a few minutes when we saw the buffalo start, going from
some of the men, of course, who at once began to chase them. This kept
them running straight ahead, and, fortunately, in Lieutenant Baldwin's
direction, who apparently was holding his horse in, waiting for them
to come. We saw through our field glasses that as soon as they got
near enough he made a quick dash for the herd, and cutting one out,
had turned it so it was headed straight for us.
Now, being on a buffalo hunt a safe distance off, was one thing, but
to have one of those huge animals come thundering along like a steam
engine directly upon you, was quite another.
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