At 7:15 we made the start--the writer taking the Weatherford stage road
across the prairie, a mere trail-- The "Norther" broke with full force,
with alternate snow, rain, hail and sleet--a heavy gale driving it into
our faces-- We left the trail and rode into several freighters' camps,
where they had sought shelter in the timber, at great risk to our
lives--to search for the missing men but without learning anything--
They had immense roaring fires which could be seen for a long distance,
but so great was their fear of Indians, that we found them up and ready,
rifle in hand--and behind their wagon bodies--determined to sell their
lives as dearly as possible-- It was hard to tear ourselves away from
these huge fires--and plunge across the interminable prairies in the
teeth of the increasing gale-- We were none too warmly clothed-- The men
and horses--hardly recovered from their year's hard work--were beginning
to show the effects and wear and tear of such a frightful storm.
Believing that we should all perish if we continued the ride all night,
and Rhodes, the guide, agreeing with me--upon his informing me that his
brother had a ranch only a mile or two off the road, directions were
given to him to head for the ranch by the shortest line so that we could
secure the needed shelter-- After a fearful struggle over several miles
of an open stretch of prairie, breasting into the teeth of one of the
worst blizzards ever recorded in Texas, we reached the ranch, the men
and horses almost exhausted, and completely coated with ice-- The ranch
proved to be a low, one story log house, with several out-buildings--a
ramshackly horse shed and corn crib-- It was midnight-- Several dogs
announced our approach, and Rhodes aroused his brother-- Ordering the
men to unsaddle, blanket the horses with their saddle blankets, and to
"tie in" under the "lee" of the buildings, the men to occupy the horse
shed--Rhodes, the Corporals and the writer stalked into the shelter of
the "shack"-- There was but one room with a large stone fire place--
Rhodes piled on the logs-- The room had two beds in it-- He and the
writer, stripping off our outer frozen clothes, and hanging them up to
dry in front of the blaze--occupied one bed--his brother, wife and
infant child were in the other, while the two Corporals, with several
large ranch dogs, curled up in their blankets on the open hearth-- It
was a "wild and wooly" night--when the baby wasn't crying the dogs were
sniffing, growling, whining or whimpering over being disturbed by such
an influx of strangers-- We wore out the night with little or no sleep--
When day broke it was found that the storm was still raging although the
wind had somewhat abated-- Feeding the horses liberally from Rhodes'
corn cribs, for which we paid him generously--and after a hasty
breakfast, we saddled up and started across the prairie to find the
road-- The country was one sheet of glare ice-- Our horses were smooth
shod-- At the road we met Sergeant Faber of Troop "A" with a small
detachment returning from some duty and going into Fort R. We learned
from him that the deserters had been seen the night before in
Weatherford, which was but a few miles away-- We skated, slid and
floundered along through the ice crust, a horse going down now and then
until we reached a creek about one-half mile from W---- when the command
halted and was placed in bivouac, concealed by heavy chaparral--
Corporal Charlton was directed to get ready to accompany the writer at
dark and afoot for a thorough search of the town and to begin to assume
his role--