Next day we marched thirty miles. When we went into camp Colonel Royal
asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for the boys.
"All right, colonel," I said; "send along a wagon to bring in the
meat."
"I am not in the habit of sending out my wagons till I know there is
something to be hauled in," he said. "Kill your buffaloes first, and
I'll send the wagons."
Without further words I went out on my hunt. After a short absence I
returned and asked the colonel to send his wagons for the half-dozen
buffaloes I had killed.
The following afternoon he again requested me to go out after
buffaloes. I didn't ask for any wagons this time, but rode out some
distance, and, coming upon a small herd, headed seven or eight of them
directly for the camp. Instead of shooting them I ran them at full
speed right into the place and then killed them one after another in
rapid succession.
Colonel Royal, who witnessed the whole proceeding, was annoyed and
puzzled, as he could see no good reason why I had not killed the
buffaloes on the prairie.
Coming up angry, he demanded an explanation.
"I can't allow any such business as this, Cody," he exclaimed. "What do
you mean by it!"
"I didn't care about asking for wagons this time, Colonel," I replied.
"I thought I would make the buffaloes furnish their own
transportation."
The colonel saw the force of my defense, and had no more to say on the
subject.
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