Leaving my saddle and bridle behind, I rode, with my competitor, to windward of the buffaloes.
I soon had thirteen down, the last one of which I had driven close to the wagons, where the ladies were watching the contest.

It frightened some of the tender creatures to see a buffalo coming at full speed directly toward them, but I dropped him in his tracks before he had got within fifty yards of the wagon.

This finished my "run" with a score of sixty-nine buffaloes for the day.

Comstock had killed forty-six.
It was now late in the afternoon.

Comstock and his backers gave up the idea of beating me.