When there were no buffalo to hunt I tried the experiment of hitching Brigham to one of our railroad scrapers, but he was not gaited for that sort of work. I had about given up the idea of extending his usefulness to railroading when news came that buffaloes were coming over the hill. There had been none in the vicinity for some time. As a consequence, meat was scarce.
I took the harness from Brigham, mounted him bareback and started after the game, being armed with my new buffalo killer which I had named "Lucretia Borgia," an improved breech-loading needle-gun which I had obtained from the Government.
As I was riding toward the buffaloes I observed five men coming from the fort. They, too, had seen the herd and had come to join the chase. As I neared them I saw that they were officers, newly arrived at the fort, a captain and four lieutenants.
"Hello, my friend!" sang out the captain as they came up. "I see you are after the same game we are."
"Yes, sir," I returned. "I saw those buffaloes coming. We are out of fresh meat, so I thought I would get some."
The captain eyed my cheap-looking outfit closely. Brigham, though the best buffalo horse in the West, was decidedly unprepossessing in appearance.
"Do you expect to catch any buffaloes on that Gothic steed!" asked the captain, with a laugh.
"I hope so."
"You'll never catch them in the world, my fine fellow. It requires a fast horse to overtake those animals."
"Does it?" I asked innocently.