As the herd went past him, with the military quintet five hundred yards
in the rear, he gave Brigham's blind bridle a twitch, and in a few jumps
the trained hunter was at the side of the rear buffalo; Lucretia Borgia
spoke, and the buffalo fell dead. Without even a bridle signal, Brigham
was promptly at the side of the next buffalo, not ten feet away, and
this, too, fell at the first shot. The maneuver was repeated until the
last buffalo went down. Twelve shots had been fired; then Brigham, who
never wasted his strength, stopped. The officers had not had even a shot
at the game. Astonishment was written on their faces as they rode up.

"Gentlemen," said Will, courteously, as he dismounted, "allow me to
present you with eleven tongues and as much of the tenderloin as you
wish."

"By Jove!" exclaimed the captain, "I never saw anything like that
before. Who are you, anyway?"

"Bill Cody's my name."

"Well, Bill Cody, you know how to kill buffalo, and that horse of yours
has some good running points, after all."

"One or two," smiled Will.

Captain Graham--as his name proved to be--and his companions were
a trifle sore over missing even the opportunity of a shot, but they
professed to be more than repaid for their disappointment by witnessing
a feat they had not supposed possible in a white man--hunting buffalo
without a saddle, bridle, or reins. Will explained that Brigham knew