It was arranged that I should shoot a match with him, and the
preliminaries were easily and satisfactorily arranged. We were to hunt
one day of eight hours, beginning at eight o'clock in the morning. The
wager was five hundred dollars a side, and the man who should kill the
greater number of buffaloes from horseback was to be declared the
winner. Incidentally my title of "Buffalo Bill" was at stake.
The hunt took place twenty miles east of Sheridan. It had been well
advertised, and there was a big "gallery." An excursion party, whose
members came chiefly from St. Louis and numbered nearly a hundred
ladies and gentlemen, came on a special train to view the sport. Among
them was my wife and my little daughter Arta, who had come to visit me
for a time.
Buffaloes were plentiful. It had been agreed that we should go into the
herd at the same time and make our "runs," each man killing as many
animals as possible. A referee followed each of us, horseback, and
counted the buffaloes killed by each man. The excursionists and other
spectators rode out to the hunting-grounds in wagons and on horseback,
keeping well out of sight of the buffaloes, so as not to frighten them
until the time came for us to dash into the herd. They were permitted
to approach closely enough to see what was going on.
For the first "run" we were fortunate in getting good ground.
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