southern. The latter were destroyed first, about 1878; the former not
until 1883. My own chief experience with buffaloes was obtained in the
latter year, among small bands and scattered individuals, near my ranch
on the Little Missouri; I have related it elsewhere. But two of my
kinsmen were more fortunate, and took part in the chase of these lordly
beasts when the herds still darkened the prairie as far as the eye could
see.

During the first two months of 1877, my brother Elliott, then a lad not
seventeen years old, made a buffalo-hunt toward the edge of the Staked
Plains in Northern Texas. He was thus in at the death of the southern
herds; for all, save a few scattering bands, were destroyed within two
years of this time. He was with my cousin, John Roosevelt, and they went
out on the range with six other adventurers. It was a party of just such
young men as frequently drift to the frontier. All were short of
cash, and all were hardy, vigorous fellows, eager for excitement and
adventure. My brother was much the youngest of the party, and the least
experienced; but he was well-grown, strong and healthy, and very fond
of boxing, wrestling, running, riding, and shooting; moreover, he had
served an apprenticeship in hunting deer and turkeys. Their mess-kit,
ammunition, bedding, and provisions were carried in two prairie-wagons,
each drawn by four horse. In addition to the teams they had six
saddle-animals--all of them shaggy, unkempt mustangs. Three or four
dogs, setters and half-bred greyhounds, trotted along behind the wagons.
Each man took his turn for two days as teamster and cook; and there were
always two with the wagons, or camp, as the case might be, while the
other six were off hunting, usually in couples. The expedition was
undertaken partly for sport and partly with the hope of profit; for,
after purchasing the horses and wagons, none of the party had any money
left, and they were forced to rely upon selling skins and hides, and,