One day the company came upon a band of friendly Kansas Indians who were out on an annual buffalo-hunt, and Captain Williams resolved to spend two or three days with this tribe, and indulge in a buffalo-hunt with them.  The whole country through which they were now travelling was literally covered with the great shaggy monsters; thousands and thousands could be seen from every point.  The buffalo had not yet been frightened.  Early the next morning, a dozen of the Kansas Indians, splendidly mounted, with spears, bows, and arrows for weapons, with the same number of Captain Williams’ men, started for the herd grazing so unsuspiciously a few miles off.  The Indians were not only excellent hunters, but very superior horsemen, their animals familiar with the habits of the huge beasts they were to encounter, and well-trained in all the quick movements so necessary to a successful hunt.  But it was not so with the men of Captain Williams’ party.  Many of them had never seen a buffalo before, and though skilful hunters in their native woods on the Missouri River, they were wholly unacquainted with the habits of the immense beasts they were now to kill.  Their horses, too, were as unused to the sight of a buffalo as their riders, and in consequence were badly frightened at the first sight of the ungainly animals.  The men, of course, used their rifles, which in those days were altogether too cumbersome for hunting the buffalo.

The party soon came in view of the herd, which was quietly grazing about a mile off.  Then the men dismounted, cinched up their saddles, and getting their arms ready for the attack, in a few moments of brisk riding were on the edge of the vast herd.  Every man picked out his quarry and dashed after it, the Indians selecting the bulls, as they were fatter at that time of year.  The cows had calves at their sides and were much thinner.  In a moment the very earth seemed to tremble under the sharp clatter of the hoofs of the now thoroughly alarmed beasts, and the sound as they dashed away was like distant thunder.  The Indians and their horses seemed to understand their business at once.  Advancing up to a buffalo, the savage discharged his bow and launched his spear with unerring aim, and the moment it was seen that a buffalo was mortally wounded, off he would ride to another animal, leaving the dying victim where it fell.

For more than two hours the hard work was kept up until a dozen or more of the huge bulls were dead upon the prairie within the radius of a couple of miles.  The Indians had averaged more than a buffalo apiece, while Captain Williams’ men had signally failed to bring down a single bull, because they were unable to handle their rifles while riding.  In fact, several of the white men were carried away by their unmanageable animals for miles from the scene of the hunt.  One was thrown from his saddle.  One horse had in his mad fright rushed upon an infuriated bull that had been wounded, and was disembowelled and killed in a moment.  Its rider was compelled to walk to the camp, deeply mortified at his discomfiture.