Last week we told of a visit to Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, and another visit in company with Mossoo, who is now once more restored to robust, not to say rude, health, for he can eat, drink, smoke, and, if occasion requires, swear quite in his old form, so we had quite a high old time, hobnobbing with cowboys and honest "Injuns." While in other company we were introduced to the Colonel himself, and had a look through his stables, where 250 horses and ponies and some really splendid mules are kept fit to go through their two performances every day. There is a pack of hounds too, so of course we had a look at them, and their season will soon commence. The stud groom was once at Milton kennels, so he knows how to keep the hunters fit; but galloping on hard ground has played havoc with their legs, and it would be well to lay down tan over the ashes during this dry weather. The Colonel's historical flea-bitten grey, now twenty-three years old, has legs like bars of steel, and the brown that now comes as second horse was bred in England, and is up to a lot of weight. Many young men might envy the elegant ease with which Buffalo Bill gets on and off his horses with the same graceful freedom of action, noticeable in all the young cowboys. These lads are full of fun and very comical in their sayings, but proud of their ponies, and fond of showing them off to the best advantage as any English sportsman mounted on a three-figure hunter. Mr. Nate Salsbury looks well after their interests, and, when time can be spared, he also looks well after visitors with introductions; but no one should presume too much on good nature, so we made friends with the Indians, and smoked a pipe of peace without other introduction. The scene is lively when the Colonel calls out the Indians for performance, and they mount their ponies leisurely and in order. Mossoo was enraptured with all he saw, so was a model landlord; but it was hard lines on him and also on his Christian tenant, who has devoted many anxious years to his proper education, when the ignorant British public were heard eagerly discussing whether that tame English landlord was a wild Sioux or a cowboy. Mossoo proposed a visit to the Flowery Land to quiet our nerves, so we sought the Swiss chalet to see Daphne, and this is what we saw:—