I seized my gun instantly, and sprang toward my horse, which I had picketed in a hidden spot in the brush near by where he would be out of sight of any passing Indians.
Climbing a steep hill, I looked cautiously over the country from which the noise appeared to come.

There before me was a great herd of buffalo, moving at full gallop.

Twenty Indians were behind it, riding hard and firing into the herd as they rode.

Others near by were cutting up the carcasses of the animals that had already been killed.
I saddled my horse and tied him near me.

Then I crawled on my stomach to the summit of the hill, and for two hours I lay there watching the progress of the chase.
When the Indians had killed all the buffalo they wanted they rode off in the direction whence they had come.