Another method of wanton slaughter is the stalking of the herds by men carrying needle-guns. These throw a ball double the weight of the ordinary carbine, and the shot is effective at six hundred yards. Concealed in ravines, the hunter causes terrible havoc with such weapons before the herd takes flight. We were never guilty of ambushing after those two days on the Saline, and of those occasions we were heartily ashamed ever afterward. [Illustration: _BUREAU OF ILLUSTRATION BUFFALO_ One specialty of the plains that deserves mention, and quite as remarkable as its brutes and plants, though of rather more modern origin, is its numerous Bills. Of these, we became acquainted, before our trip was ended, with the following distinct specimens: Wild Bill, Buffalo Bill, California Bill, Rattlesnake Bill, and Tiger Bill, the last named being, as one of our men who had played with him remarked, the "dangererest on 'em all." We also heard of a Camanche Bill and an Apache Bill, but these celebrities it was not our fortune to meet. Five pictures for the consideration of Uncle Samuel, suggestive of a game law to protect his comb-horns, buttons, tallow, dried beef, tongues, robes, ivory-black, bone-dust, hair, hides, etc.] I can not dismiss the peculiar characters of the plains without again paying tribute to that unapproachable thief, the cayote. Let no party of travelers leave any thing exposed in camp lighter than an anvil. We lost, in one night, at the hands--or rather the jaws--of these slinking sneak-thieves of the plains, a boot, a pair of leather breeches, and a half-quarter of buffalo calf, besides some smaller articles. CHAPTER XXII. A LIVE TOWN AND ITS GRAVE-YARD--HONEST ROMBEAUX IN TROUBLE--JUDGE LYNCH HOLDS COURT--MARIE AND THE VINE-COVERED COTTAGE--THE TERRIBLE FLOODS--DEATH IN CAMP AND IN THE DUG-OUT--WAS IT THE WATER WHICH DID IT?--DISCOVERY OF A HUGE FOSSIL--THE MOSASAURUS OF THE CRETACEOUS SEA--A GLIMPSE OF THE REPTILIAN AGE--REMINISCENCES OF ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING--THEY SUGGEST A THEORY. Our fourth day's travel from Silver Creek brought us to Sheridan, our secondary base of operations, so to speak, and only fourteen miles east of the Colorado border. We found the town a very lively one, notwithstanding that the grave-yard, beautifully located in a commanding position overlooking the principal street, was patronized to a remarkable extent. The place had built itself up as simply the temporary terminus of the Pacific Railroad. Soon after our visit it moved westward, and at last accounts but one house remained to mark its former site.