Too Bad This is Fiction




They followed the buffalo and their babies along the trail heading into the woods. Bill Cody raised his Sharps Model 1874 and sighted down on the big bull with the two cows ambling in front. Their three calves playfully scampered back and forth.

Bill knew that he would have to kill the bull first and it had to be a clean kill. A wounded bison was trouble; and trouble was the last thing Bill needed. He was out here with only Daniel, and they were more than half a day’s ride from civilization. Lowering his rifle and shaking his head, he telescoped his brass spyglass out to watch the calves.

They were cute little things, the way that they played together. He put away the Sharps rifle and mounted up. He signaled Daniel to do the same.

Those stories about Buffalo Bill, the great hunter – were just that. They were stories.

“Magnificent beasts, truly magnificent; are they not Daniel?”