them and saw four buffalo lying within a short distance. The general was one of the hunters who killed them. He advised getting wagons to haul in the meat, instead of packing. Some returned for wagons, and got a fine wetting, for a thunder shower came over, and from the clouds torrents of rain descended, with wind, and gave us a mighty wetting. On our return to camp, Mr. Joseph Caples shot a long distance at an antelope, and broke its hind leg. But the fun began when Samuel Ferguson, on horseback, tried to catch it. After a fine race, he overtook it and dismounted to kill it, when it ran again. They pursued it on foot and finally killed it. Some reached camp a little before dark through a hard storm of wind and rain.
"July 12.—Cloudy; dense fog this morning. The camp is a scene of confusion. Part of the company want to be off, and the other part want to stay and save meat. We are preparing to send out wagons for the meat killed yesterday. Our journey for the last four and one half days has been up the Platte. The game has been antelope until yesterday. Then the fun began. Buffalo racing is a business of much diversion, indeed. A horse, of common speed will run up on them immediately. The hunter then dismounts and fires, then loads and mounts again, and soon comes within shot once more. The process is continued in this way until he has taken all he wants. Now, while I am writing, it is half-past 8 o'clock. The cool, brisk wind is pleasant and we have a prospect of clear weather. The general has met and stopped the wagons, as the meat killed yesterday spoiled, although most of the buffaloes were gutted and left unskinned through the night. So much for ignorance or want of information on these matters. Forty thousand pounds of the best beef spoiled in one night. The animals were run through the hot sun the greater part of
