"Well, not nearly as many as ought to have been," answered Joe. "I never saw such a mixed-up mess in all my life. Enough cartridges were used to have killed five hundred, but the men from the fort were as excited as the buffalo, and they didn't hit an animal once in a hundred shots, and then when they did, half the time the ball struck them where it had no more effect than if you had hit them with a stick! "The Pawnees killed more than all the others; they got twenty-five, and have gone to camp for ponies to pack the meat on. I don't think that fifty buffaloes were killed in all. I got two, both of 'em cows, and I must take the wagon out and haul 'em in. We will have enough meat to last us a long while, but we shall have to smoke most of it." "Where did the herd go?" inquired Kate. "Most of the animals kept right on toward the east, while some of them turned round and travelled south. I suspect that the settlers on Plum Creek flats will have a good time with them, as a part of the herd that went south was headed for there. I tell you," continued Joe, "you've got to keep a clear head on your shoulders when you go after buffalo. Most of those fellows from Fort Harker are recruits, and are fresh from the East; they never saw a buffalo before, and I don't wonder they were excited." "I never saw so many rattlesnakes," said Rob, "as I did on that big stony prairie where we killed the majority of the buffalo. I guess I counted fifty if I did one. I think that the stamping of the buffalo must have frightened them out of their holes." "It's very lucky that the rattlesnakes out here are not so venomous as those back East," said Mrs. Thompson; "more than twenty persons have been bitten by them in the neighborhood since we've lived here, and a little whiskey soon cures it." "Do you remember, Gert," said Kate, "when you nearly sat down on one that was curled up on that stump you were going to take for a seat in the woods last autumn, and he rattled just in time?" "I guess I do," answered her sister. "There's one thing I like about a rattlesnake: he always gives you good warning that he is around. He doesn't ever take you unawares, like some animals, a bull dog for instance, that says nothing, and takes hold of you before you know it." "Their skins make pretty belts and hatbands," said Rob. "The cowboys on the big cattle ranches kill hundreds of them while they are out herding, and tan the skins to put around their hats. I saw a whole set of jewelry that was made out of the rattles and mounted with gold wire. One of the boys was going to send it to Texas to his sister." "Well, they may be odd," said Mrs. Thompson, "but I certainly shouldn't like to wear them."