He had never killed a buffalo, he said.

He wanted to get a fine head to take back with him, and would be grateful if I would take him with me.

I promised to see that he got a nice head if he came along, and early the next morning rode down to his hotel.

He was dressed in a smart hunting costume and had his rifle.

We started for the plains, my wagons following to gather up the meat we should kill.
As we rode out I explained to him how I hunted.