know, is my favorite, and exclusively my own horse (doesn't "belong to the concern," as Goodnight would say). I ran "Cubby" right up alongside the buffalo, within about ten feet, and commenced firing with my six-shooter. I brought him down at the sixteenth shot, having, of course, to load and throw out the shells "on the dead run;" very exciting and jolly, and not at all dangerous, as long as you don't tumble off your horse at any sharp turn after the buffalo is wounded.
January 9.
On the morning after I had written the above, Walter got into camp with letters and tobacco, so you can fancy what a jolly evening we had. You should have seen the boys going for the baccy, — they got it off his saddle before he had time to get down. I got your letters from Offley, also C.'s, L.'s, and P.'s. Please thank them all. I can so easily imagine you all at Offley, and everything going on "as per usual." Thinking of how people at home, especially in country places, seem to have certain things to talk about and do at certain times, is a great source of amusement to me. I was very much struck with it on my run home last year, especially at Mr. Davies's church, where the fellows seemed to all have on the same coats, etc. Four days ago Ley and I started down the river on an exploring expedition, and he took it into his head to rope ("lasso," as the yellow-backs have it) a buffalo. He threw his rope on to a buffalo cow, and shot her twice. The cow then commenced "coming for" him, and his horse getting scared, "let into bucking," and spilt Ley on a stump. He got very badly shaken, and can do nothing yet, but I hope there is nothing else wrong. For two or three hours he lay and could not move at all, and I had to move him when he had to change positions. The first thing he said was, and is what I believe everybody has in their minds when badly hurt, "I tell you, Hugh" (my name in this latitude), "this thing of life is a mighty uncertain kinder business."
I am getting terribly heavy. We all weighed a week ago, and I turned 12 st. 1 lb. in my shirt-sleeves, and am the heaviest in the "outfit," except Goodnight. I put it down to the bear-meat. Yesterday, I struck a buffalo-hunting "outfit" (isn't it a handy word?); there were five of them, and they were busy skinning the carcases, leaving all the good meat. It is terrible to think of the hundreds of thousands (fact) of buffalo killed every year for their hides, and the fearful waste of meat. There are hundreds of men who do nothing else, from year's end to year's end. I suppose the buffalo will be almost a thing of the past in twenty years. Since we have come down here we have not killed any cattle for meat, and shall not for years, unless for a change.
It has been a fearful winter, as, far up north, cattle were frozen. We were very lucky, moving down here just in time. I hope in a few months we shall be so fixed that you can send papers, as Goodnight brings down three thousand head more cattle in the spring, and consequently the "outfit" will be larger. We are a little "mixed" about the Eastern question, but suppose from what we gather from sundry stale papers that there is to be no war. It would be horrid to be fighting at home; a fellow would never feel easy out here, and would be badly tempted to cross the "Duck Pond," which, I suppose, would be very foolish, for by the time we got to know of it out here it would be half over. A waggon (we are past the stage of the waggon) starts up the country the day after tomorrow, and I start down the river to-morrow, so only have to-night to collect my thoughts, as it was only settled that the waggon should go this, morning. It is getting very late, and I cannot summon up any more ideas, although I have not written half I want to.
Things have never looked so well for us before, as now we have got the cattle into a place where they can hardly get out, and the only things we have to fear are horse and cattle thieves. Our expenses are comparatively over. Of course we have been under very heavy expenses till now, as it takes so many men to move cattle about the country, and you are more liable to lose them, and they never do as well and "breed up" till they are settled and as it were at home. I shall not enter on this any more till next fall, when we shall sell our beef, and I hope to send you a very favorable report in figures. In this life there is a very happy combination of business and pleasure, as a fellow is always running across game which other men have to hunt, and then very often don't get.
