The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1921-12-08

six feet two inches tall, this twenty
eight year old lad is as fine specimen
of manhood as we have ever seen.
And he fit into his clothes as though
he belonged there. Booted and spur
red, with leather chaps and wide
sombrero, Stanley Philip looked the
part-a worthy descendant of the
great Cattle King. But while wei
were admiring Stanley arrangements
for our big show developed rapidly.
''How about the cars, Andy?" queried
Stanley. Nothing doing yet; looks
as though we will have to call it off, -
answered Leonard. "Clark wants to
kill his buffalo this morning, doesn't
he?" asked Stanley as he surveyed US.
'eYep, he wants to get started home
again tonight" answered Andy.
''Well," continued Stanley, 81 came.
down the ridge this morning and
there is a big bull down the slope
yonder. 1 think he is a good speci-
men; we'd better take a look at him.
If not, there are five big fellows in
the first draw east of that, but we'd
better not disturb them unless it is
necessary" Stanley swung into the
saddle without another word. Another
fellow followed suit and they rode
down the valley. sect in" said
Leonard, as he opened the car door.
We got in and followed the two horse
men. After a few minutes" ride,
Stanley refined in and waited for US.
''There's the one saw this morning
Looks like big fellow, doesn't he?"
Hell do" muttered Andy as we sur
veyed him through the glass. Back
to the house we went without word.
Arriving there we went into the
lounging room where we seated our
self on a settee covered by a wonder
full big buffalo robe and prepared to
take it easy. Stanley appeared with
two guns. He handed US a rifle that
looked like a Roosevelt elephant gun.
That's a $50 Ross" he said. Then
he produced five shells and showed US
how to load the thing and how to
work the bolt-action and switch the
safety. ever handle one like that
before?" asked Andy. Nope" was
all we could say. Striding across the
room to where large bull head was
suspended on the wall, Stanley said,
''You hit 'em right here" and he
pointed to a spot on the neck of the
animal. ''You watch when he turns
his head. He'll look at US when we
ride up on the opposite side. AS he
turns his head, the hair will part right
here on the neck, leaving a fairly wide
swath. Shoot him in that swath right
behind the ear. We don't shoot 'em
in the heart behind the left leg any
more" Those were our instructions,
and within a minute we were starting
on the hunt. Once not so very long
ago we attempted to kill a coyote
from the saddle of broncho. When
we fired, a piece of sky fell right
down and hit US. When we came to,
the guide told US that the "hoss buck
ed a bit" We didn't want to dupli-
cate that experience and we did really
want to kill that buffalo. So it was
decided that the boys would ride down
the ridge and start the buffalo for the
plain. when he realizes that there
is something doing, he'll start for the
herd back there in the draws and it's
up to you to stop him." someone told
US. 'You take Clark down there
ways in the car and then let him take
it afoot," said Stanley to Andy as he
rode away. There was a lawyer
friend from a neighboring town visit
ing the Philips, and he came along to
see the slaughter. Another fellow
drove a big truck slowly in the rear
and his wife rode with him. This we
afterward discovered was the butcher.
There were others-in fact we had
quite a gallery as we started across
the fiat to meet our first wild buffalo.
Just visualize this scene for a min
ute if you can. Here we were a
tenderfoOt, a stranger in a strange
land, with a strange gun and strange
game to kill. We had not been at the
ranch more than forty minutes; we
had arrived in the town only about
seven hours before. And here we
were starting out afoot across the
plain to meet a buffalo bull. We asked
Stanley before he started if someone
wasn't going to take the other gun,
but he explained that if we depended
on anyone else we might not do so