name only.

At the outset he procured a trained buffalo-hunting horse, which went
by the unconventional name of "Brigham," and from the government he
obtained an improved breech-loading needle-gun, which, in testimony of
its murderous qualities, he named "Lucretia Borgia."

Buffaloes were usually plentiful enough, but there were times when the
camp supply of meat ran short. During one of these dull spells, when the
company was pressed for horses, Brigham was hitched to a scraper. One
can imagine his indignation. A racer dragging a street-car would have
no more just cause for rebellion than a buffalo-hunter tied to a work
implement in the company of stupid horses that never had a thought above
a plow, a hay-rake, or a scraper. Brigham expostulated, and in such
plain language, that Will, laughing, was on the point of unhitching
him, when a cry went up--the equivalent of a whaler's "There she
blows!"--that a herd of buffaloes was coming over the hill.

Brigham and the scraper parted company instantly, and Will mounted him
bareback, the saddle being at the camp, a mile away. Shouting an order
to the men to follow him with a wagon to take back the meat, he galloped
toward the game.

There were other hunters that day. Five officers rode out from the
neighboring fort, and joined Will while waiting for the buffaloes to
come up. They were recent arrivals in that part of the country, and
their shoulder-straps indicated that one was a captain and the others
were lieutenants. They did not know "Buffalo Bill." They saw nothing but
a good-looking young fellow, in the dress of a working man, astride a
not handsome horse, which had a blind bridle and no saddle. It was not a