assist me from my horse I fell to the ground in a heap. But I got
through the day very well, considering the very short time I have been
riding--that is, really riding. The hunt was a grand sight, and
something that probably I will never have a chance of seeing
again--and, to be honest, I do not want to see another, for the sight
of one of those splendid animals running for his life is not a
pleasant one.

The rest of the party did not come in until several hours later; but
they brought the meat and skins of four buffalo, and the head of
Lieutenant Alden's, which he will send East to be mounted. The skin he
intends to take to an Indian camp, to be tanned by the squaws.
Lieutenant Baldwin followed his buffalo until he got in the position
he wanted, and then killed him with one shot. Faye says that only a
cool head and experience could have done that. Much depends upon the
horse, too, for so many horses are afraid of a buffalo, and lunge
sideways just at the critical moment.

Several experienced hunters tell marvelous tales of how they have
stood within a few yards of a buffalo and fired shot after shot from a
Springfield rifle, straight at his head, the balls producing no effect
whatever, except, perhaps, a toss of the head and the flying out of a
tuft of hair. Every time the ball would glance off from the thick
skull. The wonderful mat of curly hair must break the force some, too.
This mat, or cushion, in between the horns of the buffalo Lieutenant
Alden killed, was so thick and tangled that I could not begin to get
my fingers in it.

FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
December, 1871.