The Monday morning following our third Sunday out brought us sunshine and rain, one of those quick downpours you cannot make ready for as you travel. The cloud and mist from this had barely cleared away when I saw a dark object in a lake ahead of us. I pointed this out to an Indian who was with me. "Oh!" said he, "that is a big stone in the lake." I declared it looked like some large animal, but as we were still distant from the lake we went on, and suddenly came upon the tracks of a large herd of buffalo. These were travelling right out eastward, and must have numbered two hundred or more. As the tracks were quite fresh, I concluded to ride ahead and reconnoitre, for eight or nine miles from us was a range of hills, and the herd was making straight for these. When about five miles from our party I heard quick shooting in their vicinity, and concluding they were being attacked by hostile Indians, I immediately turned my horse and rode as fast as I could towards them. But meeting an Indian, he stayed my alarm by saying, "It was a bear they were shooting." The object I had seen in the lake was an enormous grizzly, and he had shown fight, which accounted for the fusilade I had heard. The Indians told me that they had killed him, and that his meat was quite fat. If I had not been so much taken up with the fresh buffalo tracks I would have had the first shot at that grizzly, an eccentric fellow evidently, or he would not thus have wandered so far from his native mountains. Our herd of buffalo were travelling fast, so fast indeed that we did not see either them or any of their relations that day, but were forced to content ourselves with roasted grizzly. The next day we came to a small bunch of cows that led us a lively chase. The land was broken and rolling, and the buffalo split up as we charged. Samson and I went after one portion at a breakneck speed down a range of hills into a valley, where I thought we were going to have a fair race, when suddenly the whole lot disappeared over a precipitous bank into a creek with a plunge and splash. I watched my companion to see what he would do, when I saw him urge his horse over the bank into about four feet of water. As he took the jump he held his gun up over his head to keep it dry, and I followed, doing the same. And now as the flying herd were rushing up the slope, Samson shouted, "That is a good one on your side; try and kill her." When I closed in the cow left the others and ran me a stiff chase up the hill. But I sent a bullet after her which made her slow up and presently stop and face me. Then I gave her another right in the head, and she dropped in her tracks. As my little horse was now well winded, I alighted by the side of the cow, and Samson came up, having killed two. The others also had done well, so we camped by that creek and began making provisions.