Omaha daily bee., 1894-03-25
THE VANISHED KING
Renaissance of Nebraska Life in
the Early Days.
STORY OF A BUFFALO HUNT BY AMATEURS
How n Greeny Killed a Fine Three-Year-
Old Heifer in tho Republican Valley
A Mysterious Animal that Was
Not Molested.

We were seated in the shade of the trees
in front of a Red Cloud hotel when the con-
versation turned upon the happenings of
early days. My companion, the casual ac-
quaintance of a day, CHANGED to be an early
settler of the neighborhood and in a reminis-
cent mood, 1t required but little TO direct
his thoughts to buffalo and buffalo hunting.
Twenty-three years ago, said he. the buff
falo had not entirely disappeared from the
Republican valley. The main herd" had
scattered before the advance of permanent
civilization, but bands Of thirty or forty were
still to be seen. For two or three years
after Captain, sincesGovernor, CARRIER, had
planted the little colony here at Red Cloud,
an occasional stray would appear on the
hills hereabouts and in 1872 one ran across
the townsite, then occupied by perhaps ten
or twelve families.
In the fall of 1871 six of us determined to
go on a hunt for the fast disappearing mon
arch of the plains, Landlord George 7.
wanted meat with which to stay the appe-
titles of prospective guests at his log hotel.
George and Fred r., bachelor brothers.
needed food for the coming winter. We
all wanted Ed X. to go with us, because he
was a good housekeeper. We had all dined
with him at his bachelor home adjoining the
city" and we knew from our own personal
knowledge that he was the only bachelor in
the county who was over neat enough to
wash the dishes at least once a day. My
self? Well, | went because | wanted to,
| was the only lawyer on the Nebraska end
of the valley. My clients did not profit by
my absence, because the first term of the
district court, for this county, did not sit
Tor two years thereafter, when Judge Gannt
held court for two whole days. said six
went? oh, yes; John T., quick, wiry, red
headed John, \ good wing shot and a
genial comrade, He was with us because
he was always on hand for adventure.
We carried one Winchester repeating rifle.
that is John did; one Smith & Wesson,
single shot, breach-loading rife; that was
Eds. You could telf whose 1t was by look
ing through the barrel and marking the
spotless cleanliness .0t its glistenlng spirals.
l had an old army, seven-shOt, Spencer rifle;
while the RS had "a shotgun and a Sharp's
rifle that had seentBeryice with John Brown
in Kansas. George Il. didn't carry a gun.
He couldn't hit the side of a barn If you
shut him inside of II, He had been a boss
teamster in the ARMY and could drive two
yoke OF steers hitched TO a top-box-lOad of
jerked meat. up the perpendicular face Of
a bluh, but he couldn't and he wouldn't
shoot. He was the proyider; We were the
producers,
PRACTICED ON THE PRAIRIE DOGS.
We started one Nebraska morning in Octo-
Der. Three wagons, drawn by one span OF
horses and three yoke OF cattle. Ed AMI |
had charge Of the advance. steering by
means OF the bull whip" out OF town
a couple Of miles we neared a dog town"
A saucy prairie dog sat upright on the rim
Of the funnel-shaped entrance to his sub
terranean home. a hundred yards away, and
chartered at US in a way that made me
think Of the "chipmunk' on the rail fence
back In old Ohio,
Ed, you can't hit that dog"
by George, | can"
Up comes the rife.
Crack!
The dog put his head between his paws