When we were passing through the buffalo country, we looked away to the left and saw a great dark cloud coming.  The prairie was so level that we could see for a long ways.  As it came nearer we could see a dark rim in front of it.  Men, who had seen such things before, knew at once what it was and word was passed along for the wagons to draw closer together and stop.  It was a buffalo stampede.  We had been warned about it by our guide.

     Those of our party who were on horseback crowded together in the lee of the wagons.  People on foot climbed into the wagons and everyone watched the oncoming, galloping herd.  As they came nearer, they looked like the waves of the sea.  There were four or five hundred of them and they crossed our line of travel directly in front of us.  It took them an hour and a half to pass.  When all but a dozen or so had gone by, someone shot into them.  It was a foolish thing to do, for the remaining ones became terror stricken and completely demoralized.  One huge bull came plunging toward our wagon.  I sat in front by the driver and my bare feet hung down over the dash board. The great beast saw the wagon in his way when it was too late to turn aside, so he made one wild leap and cleared the tongue of it, jumped between the wheel-oxen and my bare feet.  Oh! but he did feel wooly.  I expect it would have scared me terribly if it had not happened so quickly.

     When a buffalo gallops he carries his nose almost to the ground.  He is very awkward and lumbery looking.  And when one jumps between a small girl and the wheel-oxen, he looks bigger by twice than he does when he gallops with the rest of the herd.