Each hunter was rewarded with abundant success.
Lawrence Jerome met with the only mishap.

He was riding Buckskin Joe, which I had lent him, and, dismounting to get a steady shot, thoughtlessly let go of the bridle.
The horse decided to do a little hunting on his own account.

When last seen that day he was ahead of the buffaloes, and gaining, while his late rider was left to his own reflections.

Three days later Joe, saddled and bridled, turned up at Fort McPherson.
We pitched our camp for the night in a charming spot on the bank of Beaver Creek.

The game was so abundant that we remained there the next day.