I drove him uphill and down, and across canyons at a dead run for eight miles single handed, and loaded him on a freight car; but he came near getting me once or twice, and only quick broncho work and lance play saved me.
"In the Yellowstone Park all our buffaloes have become docile, excepting the huge bull which led them.

The Indians call the buffalo leader the 'Weetah,' the master of the herd.

It was sure death to go near this one.

So I shipped in another Weetah, hoping that he might whip some of the fight out of old Manitou, the Mighty.

They came together head on, like a railway collision, and ripped up over a square mile of landscape, fighting till night came on, and then on into the night.
"I jumped into the field with them, chasing them with my biograph, getting a series of moving pictures of that bullfight which was sure the real thing.