called back to get the skin, and while it was coming I took a complete series of measurements and sketches of him as he lay.
Although we removed the skin very quickly, and lost no time in again starting the wagon to our permanent camp, the delay occasioned by the death of our twentieth buffalo, — which occurred on November 20, precisely two months from the date of our leaving Washington to collect twenty buffalo, if possible, — caused us all to be caught in a snow-storm, which burst upon us from the northwest. The wagon had to be abandoned about 12 miles from camp in the bad lands. Mr. Brown packed the bedding on one of the horses and rode the other, he and Boyd reaching camp about 9 o'clock that night in a blinding snow-storm. Of course the skins in the wagon were treated with preservatives and covered up. It proved to be over a week that the wagon and its load bad to remain thus abandoned before it was possible to get to it and bring it to camp, and even then the task was one of great difficulty. In this connection I can not refrain from recording the fact that the services rendered by Mr. W. Harvey Brown on all such trying occasions as the above were invaluable. He displayed the utmost zeal and intelligence, not only in the more agreeable kinds of work and sport incident to the hunt, but also in the disagreeable drudgery, such as team-driving and working on half-frozen specimens in bitter cold weather.
The storm which set in on the 20th soon developed into a regular blizzard. A fierce and bitter cold wind swept down from the northwest, driving the snow before it in blinding gusts. Had our camp been poorly sheltered we would have suffered, but at it was we were fairly comfortable.
Having thus completed our task (of getting twenty buffaloes), we were anxious to get out of that fearful country before we should get caught in serious difficulties with the weather, and it was arranged that Private C. S. West should ride to Fort Keogh as soon as possible, with a request for transportation. By the third day, November 23, the storm had abated sufficiently that Private West declared his willingness to start. It was a little risky, but as he was to make only 10 miles the first day and stop at the N-bar camp on Sand Creek, it was thought safe to let him go. He dressed himself warmly, took my revolver, in order not to be hampered with a rifle, and set out.
The next day was clear and fine, and we remarked it as an assurance of Mr. West's safety during his ride from Sand Creek to the LU-bar ranch, bis second stopping-place. The distance was about 25 miles, through bad lands all the way, and it was the only portion of the route which caused me anxiety for our courier's safety. The snow on the levels was less than 6 inches deep, the most of it having been blown into drifts and hollows; but although the coulées were all filled level to the top, our courier was a man of experience and would know how to avoid them.
The 25th day of November was the most severe day of the storm, the
