The still hunter was the most insidious enemy of the buffalo, a single man, by sneaking upon a herd, having been known to kill one thousand in a single season. Capt. Jack Bridges, of Kansas, killed 1,142 buffaloes in six weeks. In the different states there were regular killing outfits that cost, in rifles, horses, carts, etc., from $2,000 to $5,000. Such methods developed some famous characters. Buffalo Bill (Col. W. F. Cody) was one. He contracted with the Kansas Pacific railroad to furnish them with all the buffalo the men could eat as the road was built; and, according to Mr. Cody's statement, they ate 4,280 buffaloes in eighteen months, for which he received $500 per month, "the price he paid for his title." There were living at the last government census, made in 1891, 256 pure-blooded buffaloes in captivity, the last of the race. A buffalo robe is now a scarce article and a well-preserved specimen brings a high price. Massive heads of old bull buffaloes are preserved in many museums and are valued at from $150 to $250. Mark Twain once said that the most wonderful scene he had ever looked upon was an enormous herd of buffaloes in Colorado. Mr. John D. Dunham, formerly United States land commissioner in Wyoming, and later connected with the Yellowstone Park commission, recently stated that there were between 120 and 140 buffaloes left in the United States last autumn, and the mortality among the surviving beasts was greater last winter than ever before during their captivity. Despite the severe penalty for killing the big animals in the National Park, a dozen or more buffaloes have been slain there every year. Last year a form of influenza destroyed some of them, and there are probably no more than fifty of the veterans of the plains left. Baker, in his "Wild Beasts and Their Ways," says: "The bison is a grand-looking creature, and in my opinion it is the most striking of all wild animals." THE TURTLE DOVE. GRANVILLE OSBORNE. In and out the leafy shade Of the peaceful glen and glade, Where the brook goes rippling by, Through the cowslip meadow nigh; When the soft and odorous breeze Whispers gently 'mongst the trees, Lovingly, I hear them woo-- "_Coo-goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-o-o._" Bows and bridles proudly he, Coyly shy and modest she; Hither, yon, in ceaseless quest, 'Till they build a cozy nest; Full of watchful care is he, When there comes maternity; Never lover's song so true-- "_Coo-goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-o-o._" Now so proud he tabers low, To his loving mate below; Never lover so in love, As this billing, cooing dove. Back and forth he quickly flies With his generous supplies, Then he nods, "There, that will do-- _Coo-goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-o-o._"