The Myth of the Buffalo Stand

Lying atop a grassy knoll 400 yards downwind from a grazing herd, a bearded, unkempt hunter rests the barrel of his .50–caliber Sharps on a metal monopod, cocks the hammer and sights in on the lead cow. Aiming at her chest, a hand-width above the elbow-joint of her foreleg, the frontiersman slowly squeezes the trigger. A puff of dust explodes from the buffalo’s shaggy coat when the 500-grain bullet strikes. Hit in the lungs, the cow remains stationary while her lifeblood flows from the wo