During our first night in camp the members of the party asked me hundreds of questions about buffaloes and buffalo hunting. The entire evening was spent in talk about buffaloes, together with stories of the Plains, the chase, and the war, which was then fresh in the minds of all of us. We closed the evening by christening the camp, Camp Brown, in honor of the gallant officer who was in command of the escort.

We breakfasted at four the next morning and at six we were in the saddle. Everyone was eager to see the buffaloes which I had promised would be met with during the day. After a march of five miles the advance guard which I commanded sighted six of these animals grazing about two miles away.

Acting upon my suggestion, Lawrence Jerome, Livingston, Heckscher, Fitzhugh, Rogers, and Crosby, with myself as guide, rode through a convenient canon to a point beyond the herd, and to windward of them; the rest of the party made a detour of nearly five miles, keeping behind the crest of a hill.

We charged down on the buffaloes at full gallop, and just then the other party emerged from their concealment and witnessed the exciting chase.

The buffaloes started away in a line, single file; Fitzhugh, after a lively gallop, led us all. Soon he came alongside the rear buffalo, at which he fired. The animal faltered, and with another shot Fitzhugh brought him to the ground. Crosby dashed past and leveled another of the herd, while Livingston dropped a third. Those who were not directly engaged in the hunt now came up and congratulated the buffalo killers.

Fitzhugh was hailed as the winner of the Buffalo Cup. There was general sympathy for Heckscher, whose horse had fallen and rolled over him, thus putting him out of the race.

The hunt being over, the column moved forward through a prairie-dog town, several miles in extent. These animals are found throughout the Plains, living together in a sort of society. Their numberless burrows in their towns join each other and the greatest care is necessary in riding among them, since the ground is so undermined as easily to give way under the weight of a horse.

Around the entrance to each burrow earth is piled to the height of at least a foot. On these little elevations the prairie-dogs sit on their haunches, chattering to each other and observing whatever pa.s.ses on the Plains.

They will permit a person to approach very closely, but when they have viewed him they dive into their holes with wonderful celerity. They are difficult to kill. If hit they usually succeed in getting underground before they can be recovered.

Rattlesnakes and little owls are found in great numbers in the prairie-dog towns, living in the same burrows. We killed and cooked a few of the prairie-dogs, and found them very palatable.

A short distance beyond the prairie-dog town we found a settlement of five white men. They Proved to be the two Clifford brothers, Arthur Ruff, d.i.c.k Seymour, and John Nelson. To the last I have already referred. Each of these men had a squaw for a wife and numerous half-breed children. They lived in tents of buffalo skins. They owned a herd of horses and a few cattle, and had cultivated a small piece of land. Their princ.i.p.al occupation was hunting, and they had numbers of buffalo hides, which they had tanned in the Indian fashion.

Upon reaching Pleasant Valley on Medicine Creek the party divided into two detachments, one hunting along the bank of the creek for elk and deer, the other remaining with the main body of the escort.

The elk hunters met with no success whatever, but the others found plenty of buffaloes and nearly everybody killed one before the day was done. Lawrence Jerome made an excellent shot. He was riding in an ambulance, and killed a buffalo that attempted to cross the line of march. Upon crossing the Republican River on the morning of the twenty-sixth we came upon an immense number of buffaloes scattered over the country in every direction. All had an opportunity to hunt. The wagons and troops moved slowly along toward the next camp while the hunters rode off in twos and threes. Each hunter was rewarded with abundant success.

Lawrence Jerome met with the only mishap. He was riding Buckskin Joe, which I had lent him, and, dismounting to get a steady shot, thoughtlessly let go of the bridle.

The horse decided to do a little hunting on his own account. When last seen that day he was ahead of the buffaloes, and gaining, while his late rider was left to his own reflections. Three days later Joe, saddled and bridled, turned up at Fort McPherson.

We pitched our camp for the night in a charming spot on the bank of Beaver Creek. The game was so abundant that we remained there the next day. This stopping-place was called Camp Cody, in honor of the reader's humble servant. The next day was spent in hunting jack-rabbits, coyotes, elk, antelope, and wild turkeys.

That we had a splendid dinner may be seen from the following

BILL OF FARE

Soup Buffalo Tail

Fish Broiled Cisco; Fried Dace

Entrees Salmi of Prairie Dog; Stewed Rabbit; Filet of Buffalo aux Champignons

Vegetables Sweet Potatoes, Mashed Potatoes, Green Peas

Dessert Tapioca Pudding

Wines Champagne Frappe, Champagne au Naturel, Claret, Whisky, Brandy, Ale

Coffee

I considered this a fairly good meal for a hunting party. Everybody did justice to it.

The excursionists reached Fort Hays on the morning of October second.

There we pitched our tents for the last time. That same afternoon General Sheridan and his guests took the train for the East. They expressed themselves as highly pleased with the hunt, as well as with the way they had been guided and escorted.

General Davies afterward wrote the story of this hunt in a volume of sixty-eight pages, called "Ten Days on the Plains." In this chapter I have taken the liberty of condensing frequently from this volume, and in some cases have used the general's exact language. I ought to insert several lines of quotations marks, to be pretty generally distributed through the foregoing account.

After the departure of General Sheridan's party we returned to Fort McPherson, and found General Carr about to start on a twenty days'

scout. His object was more to take some friends on a hunt than to look for Indians. His guests were a couple of Englishmen and Mr. McCarthy of New York, the latter a relative of General Emory. The command consisted of three companies of the Fifth Cavalry, one company of p.a.w.nee Scouts, and twenty-five wagons. Of course I was called to accompany the expedition.

One day, after we had been out for some little time, I arranged with Major North to play a joke on Mr. McCarthy. I took him out on a hunt about eight miles from the camp, informing Major North about what time we should reach there. He had agreed that he would appear in the vicinity with his Indians, who were to throw their blankets around them and come dashing down upon us, firing and whooping in the true Indian style.

This program was faithfully carried out. I had been talking about Indians to McCarthy, and he had become considerably excited, when just as we turned a bend in the creek we saw a band of them not half a mile away. They instantly started after us on the gallop, yelling and shooting.

"McCarthy," said I, "shall we run or fight?"

He did not wait to reply. Wheeling his horse, he started at full speed down the creek. He lost his gun and dropped his hat, but never once did he look back to see if he were pursued. I tried to stop him by shouting that the Indians were p.a.w.nees and our friends. He did not hear me, but kept straight on, never stopping his horse till he reached the camp.

I knew he would tell General Carr that the Indians had jumped him, and that the general would at once start out with troops. So as soon as the p.a.w.nees rode up, I told them to remain there while I rode after my friend.

When I had reached camp, he had given the alarm, and the general had ordered out two companies of cavalry to go in pursuit of the Indians.

I told the general the Indians were only p.a.w.nees, and that a joke had been put up on McCarthy. I neglected to tell him who had put up the joke. He was fond of a joke himself, and did not get very angry. I had picked up McCarthy's hat, which I returned to him. It was some time before it was discovered who was at the bottom of the affair.

It was while I was stationed at Fort McPherson, where Brevet-Major-General W.H. Emory was in command, that I acted as guide for Lord Flynn, an English n.o.bleman who had come over for a hunt on the Plains. I had been recommended to him by General Sheridan.

Flynn had served in India with the British army. He was a fine sportsman and a splendid shot, and secured many heads and skins while he was with me. Money meant little to him. He insisted on paying all the bills, spending his money lavishly on both officers and men when he was at the Post.

Once, when we ran out of liquid refreshments while on the hunt, we rode thirty miles to a saloon, only to find it closed. Lord Flynn inquired the price of the place, found it to be $500 and bought it. When we left, after having had all we needed to drink, he gave it--house, bar, stock, and all--to George Dillard, who had come along with the party as a sort of official bartender.

Sir George Watts-Garland also made a hunt with us. He was an excellent hunter and a thorough gentleman, but he lacked the personality that made Lord Flynn one of the most popular visitors who ever came to the Post.

Early in January, 1872, General Forsythe and Dr. Asch, of General Sheridan's staff, came to Fort McPherson to make preparations for a grand buffalo hunt to be conducted for the Grand Duke Alexis. General Sheridan was desirous of giving the Russian n.o.bleman the hunt of his life. He wanted everything ready when the Grand Duke arrived, so that he need lose no time at the Post.

By way of giving their distinguished guest a real taste of the Plains, the two officers asked me to visit the camp of the Sioux chief, Spotted Tail, and ask him to bring a hundred of his warriors to the spot on Red Willow Creek, which, at my suggestion, had been selected as the Grand Duke's camp.

Spotted Tail had permission from the Government to hunt buffalo, a privilege that could not be granted to Indians indiscriminately, as it involved the right to carry and use firearms. You couldn't always be sure just what kind of game an Indian might select when you gave him a rifle. It might be buffalo, or it might be a white man. But Spotted Tail was safe and sane. Hence the trust that was reposed in him.

Forsythe and Asch, after accompanying me to the site I had found for the camp, returned to the Post, while I set out to confer with Mr.

Spotted Tail. The weather was very cold, and the journey was by no means a delightful one. I was obliged to camp out with only my saddle-blankets to protect me from the weather, and only my vigilance to protect me from the Indians. Spotted Tail himself was friendly, but some of his young men were decidedly hostile. My activities as a scout had made me many enemies among the Sioux, and it is not their nature easily to forget old grudges.

At the close of the first day I made camp on a tributary of Frenchman's Fork, and built a little fire. The night was bitter cold, and I was so busy keeping warm that I got very little sleep. The next afternoon I began to notice fresh horse tracks and the carca.s.ses of recently killed buffaloes. I knew that I was nearing an Indian camp. It was not policy to ride boldly in among the Indians, as some of them might be inclined to shoot me first and discover later that I was a friend of Spotted Tail. So I hid my horse in a low ravine and crawled up a hill, from whose summit I obtained a good view of the country.

When night fell, I rode into camp un.o.bserved. As I entered the camp I wrapped my blanket, Indian fashion, about my head, so that the redskins would not at once recognize me as a white man. Then I hunted about till I found Spotted Tail's lodge. The old chief was stretched lazily out on a pile of robes as I looked in. He knew who I was and invited me to enter.

In the lodge I found Todd Randall, an old white frontiersman, who was Spotted Tail's friend and agent, and who had lived a great many years with the Indians. Randall, who spoke the Sioux jargon perfectly, did the interpreting, and through him I readily communicated to the chief the object of my visit.

I said that the warriors and chiefs would greatly please General Sheridan if they would meet him in about ten sleeps at the old Government crossing at the Red Willow. I said that a great chief from far across the water was coming to visit them, and that he was especially anxious to meet the greatest of the Indian chiefs.

Spotted Tail replied that he would be very glad to go. He added that on the morrow he would call his men together and select from them those who were to accompany him. He told me I had acted very wisely in coming first to him, as it was known to him that some of his young men did not like me, and he knew that they had hasty tempers. He expressed himself as pleased that they had not met me outside the village, and I a.s.sured him that I was equally pleased that this was so.