what had become of the train. He told us that he had killed a large buffalo, and called for volunteers to go with him and bring in the meat. Seven returned with Captain Morrison, among them being George Waunch, who boarded with Colonel Simmons. He had a high mettled, fleet mare under him on this occasion, and as we got near the dead game an antelope came down the plain in a direction to pass us one fourth of a mile southward. Mr. Waunch started his mare, to get a shot, and was running at full speed when his mare went into a fresh-made buffalo wallow with her fore feet, and turned a somersault over him. The antelope stopped, and the man rose to his feet and fired. Both game and sportsman fell, and riding up we found the little mare trembling and her rider unable to rise without assistance. The gunstock was broken off at the trigger guard, but the antelope was dead, the distance of the shot being fully one hundred yards. We paid no more attention to this, however, having found that the mare's limbs were all right, and assisting the German into the saddle when he was enough recovered to be able to cling, then went for the larger game. We found that Morrison's buffalo had settled down with the fore feet under the body, and before we began to skin the carcass a careful estimate was made of its weight, two thousand pounds being the average estimate. We split the skin up and down the back, and taking out the hump, ribs, and loin meat, had more than we could conveniently carry, as one of our saddle nags, a mule, too, became stubborn and broke away, refusing to be caught. We had been in the edge of the thunderstorm and got wet, but the night was warm, even sultry. We made a jolly party going back to camp, as the man who led the way, walking beside his mule, Joseph Watt, started us singing, song about. We arrived at camp about 11 P. M., and had the first
