We had advanced but a short distance after sighting the trees when we also saw some dark objects just beyond. “Buffaloes!” was the first flash through our minds; and our field-glass told us that we were right. Buffaloes were what we were hunting; and, mounting my pony, with my big Sharpe in hand, I was soon wending my way down the deep, dry gulch until I was just opposite the herd; and, tying the pony to a cotton-wood, I crawled up to survey. There were thirty-eight in the herd, and they were leisurely feeding up a green ravine that lay parallel with Bear Creek and led into it some distance below. They were several hundred yards south of me, but by crawling cautiously along I succeeded in getting into the ravine about four hundred yards above them without being noticed, and impatiently awaited the oncome. When they got within about three hundred yards of me some of the old bulls appeared to see me, and, with heads erect, on they came, stopping at intervals to paw the earth and ring my ears with their bellowing. The whole herd at length saw me, and curiously started to inspect the dark object stretched out upon the plain before them. I thought about _shooting_ until they were within two hundred yards of me, when my giant strength failed me and I lay like the slain Goliath, helplessly stretched upon the earth. I had often heard of _buck-ague_, but if that was _my_ attack I am sure its effects were never fully described; for I felt as though a bucketful of blood jumped through my heart at a time, and every time my pulse beat I believe I jumped four inches from the sod. This was the first wild herd I had ever seen; and having my first experience upon the open plain all by myself, without a tree to climb or a stump to hide behind in case of immersion, I must say somewhat _terrified_ me; and while thinking of all the danger I _might_ be in, they suddenly started off in a lope, as though scenting me, and certainly to my very great relief. This was now my opportunity to try my hand; and, running to the top of a little knoll, I took aim from my knee at an old bull that had stopped to look back, and pulled. I did not _consider_ that I was firing a _one-hundred-grain gun_, and having my nose entirely too close it was some time before I was conscious of what had taken place. When the blood had stopped running and the smoke had cleared away, and I found that I had not shot myself, I looked up to see the last buffalo disappear behind the raise. Sheepishly I retired, amid the shouts from the boys; and though we had no success _this time_ we knew that we were now in the buffalo region at last, and supposed ourselves more _able_ to tackle the next gang, be it great or small.