I had killed four out of the twelve. By counting my shells I found I had shot thirteen times. I took the tongues from the four and went to camp, boiled tongue being a luxury. Dockum, Hadley and Frank were in camp when I got there. They had heard the shooting, and seemed surprised when they learned that it was I doing it and that I had killed four out of twelve with only thirteen shots.
When Charlie and Cyrus came in, shortly after I had reached camp, we had the four tongues cooking in a kettle; and when the former heard that I had killed the four buffaloes, he said:
"Cook, I believe if you had had your gun when you were lost on the South Canadian you would have made your living."
I took my hide team and drove out and skinned the four buffaloes I had killed, thus earning one dollar on that holiday.
The next morning Charlie got on his hunting-horse and rode south across the Brazos. He said on leaving us that he would ride until he found good hunting again. Cyrus and I struck out for the place he had seen the bear. After reaching the place, we explored the region pretty thoroughly; found plenty of fresh signs, but we did not see one the entire day. We were both afoot, and roamed at will as thought or fancy pleased us.
Wending our way toward camp, we came to some rough breaks near the Brazos, and saw a large eagle alight on a jutting crag. It had a jack rabbit in its talons, and commenced eating it. It was fully two hundred yards from us, and if it saw us at all it ignored our presence.
"Cyrus," I said, "I would like to have that eagle."
"He is yours if you can get him," he replied.
I then said, "If you will stay where you are and give me a few moments' time I believe I'll get it."