Lost.—Alone at Night in the Wilds.—Quicksanded in the Canadian.—The
Beaver Played in the Water.—Second Day and Night it Snowed.—Wolves
Serenade Me.—Getting Snowblind.—Third Night Out, Suffered in Body and
Mind.—Following Morning, found Adobe Walls.—And the Good Samaritans
Were There.
My earthly possessions at this time consisted of two pairs of woolen
blankets, one large, heavy, water-proof Navajo blanket, one bright,
gaudy serape, a buffalo-hair pillow, two suits of underclothes, two
navy-blue overshirts, an extra pair of pants, an overcoat, and an
undercoat. I told the Mexican that could speak English that "I would go
and see those men and try to get in with them, and go on farther east
toward Fort Elliott."
I had $96.60 in my purse. I took from the sack that contained my extra
clothing some papers, for my identification, wishing to place myself
right with the four men at the start, for on the frontier there were
more or less men of shady repute and some notorious outlaws. Every
riding-horse at this time was out of camp. The English-speaking Mexican
said that I "had better wait until some of the lancers came in and go
on horseback." I said, "No; it is only a little ways and I would just
as soon walk."
The Indians had been subdued the summer before, and we all felt safe
in that one respect, and would continue to feel so until the next
spring. So I struck out. The Mexican who came in and told me about the
four men being encamped, after describing them and their outfit, which
was interpreted to me, passed on out westward to look for a chance to
lance a buffalo. When I left camp I was wearing a half-worn pair of
heavy congress gaiters, and a pair of heavy duck leggings. It was not
my intention to be gone more than three or four hours. I struck out
down the Blue, at a rapid gait. At this time I was in excellent mettle,
apparently in perfect health. My muscles were thoroughly toughened by
rough, rugged physical exercise, my appetite good and sleep sound.
This was the morning of the 15th of November, 1874. As I walked along I
was possessed of hopes of a successful future. I went down Blue Water
to where it empties into the South Canadian. I saw a smoke across the
river on a little creek that put into the Canadian from the south side.
This must be the camp, and the Mexican had said nothing about crossing
the river. This smoke was more than a mile away, near a brush thicket.
I forded the river and went up the creek, only to find an abandoned
camp. The sign was fresh; they had not been gone long. I followed the
wagon-trail up the creek to where it crossed, taking up a slope in a
southeast direction. I hurried on to the top of the plains, hoping to
get a view of the outfit I was looking for.
Standing here and looking over a vast stretch of country, I saw to my
left the rugged and irregular breaks of the Canadian; in front of me
some two miles or more were the breaks of a cañon coming into the river
from the south; and on the opposite side of the cañon saw the outfit.
I was hunting, heading northward toward the Canadian river. They had
traveled a southeast course to round the head of the cañon, and were
traveling down the eastern side of it when I saw them. Thinking I could
yet intercept them, I headed in the direction of the mouth of the
cañon. Having short buffalo-grass to walk over and a level, stoneless
prairie, without a sign of mesquite or sage-brush, as the cowboys
would say, "I fairly rattled my hocks."
Arriving at the mouth of the cañon, there was no one in sight. But,
standing on a jutting promontory, I could see scattering bands of
antelope, a large flock of wild turkeys, a few straggling buffalo,
and one large lobo or timber wolf. I went down into the Canadian
river bottom proper, turned east, crossed the ravine below the mouth
of the cañon, and skirted along the slope, carefully looking for the
wagon-tracks which are always, in the short-grass country, very plain
for several days.
I traveled down parallel with the main river about three miles
further, and no results. I turned, going up the slope, going on to the
table-land, expecting to find the trail going eastward over the bench
or table-land. I traveled along this bench and watched the ground
closely, occasionally stopping and scanning the country over. In this
way I had traveled possibly two miles when I heard the report of a gun
to my right front, and, as I judged, a mile away.
From here I could have gone straight back to the camp of Mexicans I
had left, not over ten miles at farthest, as I believed. This I should
have done. But I reasoned thus: The man who fired that gun was a member
of the party I was seeking; I would yet get to them and would offer
to pay them well, to go back with me to the Mexican camp for my own
gun and outfit, and then work my way to Fort Elliott. Acting upon this
reasoning, I started in the direction that the report of the gun came
from, walking very rapidly and taking no note of the ground.
I had gone about a mile when I came in sight of another break in
the plain by a draw running back from the river. Before going into
the draw, or little valley, with a watercourse running through it,
and standing pools (at that season the water not running over the
riffles), I took a good look in every direction and could see no sign
of humanity. I was dripping wet with perspiration, and could feel the
pangs of hunger keenly, but was not thirsty, as I had taken a drink
of water when crossing the draw below the mouth of the first cañon. I
went down to the nearest pool of water, stripped off, and took a good
bath, and after rubbing my body thoroughly with the outside of my outer
shirt, and dressing, I walked up to the plateau opposite the way I had
come. I sat down on a chalky point facing the Canadian river.
While resting here and scanning the country over, my eye fell upon a
peculiar-looking object on a flat in front of me not more than sixty
rods away. The grass here was the short, curly buffalo variety. Not a
switch or object of any kind around this lone object. I gazed at it for
some time, but could not make it out. My curiosity was now aroused;
so I started for it, and found upon arrival that it was a five-gallon
water-keg with a gray woolen blanket sewed around it, the work having
been done with a sacking-needle and twine. It was lying near the center
of a fresh trail made by five or six wagons drawn by both horses and
mules, the tracks pointing southeast. I followed this trail until near
dusk, and, no sign of overtaking any one being apparent that night,
I turned around and retraced my steps nearly a mile, to where I had
passed at the head of a draw an abandoned camp.
There was quite a pile of wood that had been gathered and not used.
The place was on high ground overlooking the country to the north and
west. There was a thicket of stunted hackberry and palodura, hard poles
of china-wood, close to where the old camp-fire had been. There was
probably an acre of it all together. It was now quite dark and the
stars were twinkling. I picked up a dry twig and reached into my pocket
for my penknife. To my chagrin and discomfiture I found I had left
it in my other pocket, when I put on my best trousers that morning.
I immediately placed my right hand across my breast to feel for my
match-box, which I always carried in my left outside shirt pocket,
when to my delight I found my matches were safe and all right. I then
gathered some fine twigs, and soon had a rousing fire.
There was a trickling stream of water coming out of the scrubby wood
patch, and the campers who had preceded me had dug a hole about two
feet deep and thirty inches across for the water to run into. It was
full at this time, so I was assured of this and a camp-fire. I was very
tired and quite hungry. There was an empty Pierre Lorillard tobacco-box
here which the campers had left. This I used for a head-rest, and in a
reclining position before my fire I began to think of ways and means. I
finally decided to retrace my steps and get back to the Mexican camp.
So I folded my hat, tied a handkerchief around my head, placed the hat
on the tobacco-box for a pillow, stretched out and went to sleep. Three
times during the night I was awakened by the cold. Then I would get up,
replenish the fire, get warm, lie down and sleep again.
My last awakening was at daylight, and the sky was overcast with murky
clouds; and here I must say that I, for the first time, became somewhat
doubtful about making, or finding my way back to the camp I had left.
But the trail I had been following was plain, and could be followed no
matter how cloudy it might get.
I have been asked many times by various plainsmen, why, from this camp,
I did not go north to the Canadian river, take up the south side of
it to the mouth of Blue Water, then up Blue Water to the Mexican camp.
This thought did occur to me; but what if that camp should be moved?
Might I not get so weak from hunger that I would perish before I could
reach it?
So I took the trail I turned back on the night before, and traveled
over it for about six miles, when it suddenly turned to the right and
headed nearly due south. By this time the clouds had grown thicker, the
atmosphere warmer and damp. I had not gone to exceed a hundred yards
farther when I came to a cross-trail, and noticed that one wagon had
turned off into it and followed it in a northeast direction. I dropped
down on the grass and pondered in my mind the pros and cons of my
predicament; and I reasoned that this one wagon had been the one that I
had followed the morning before, and had at all times been on my right;
that it had intercepted the trail somewhere along the route from where
I had discovered the keg, and while walking along rapidly, looking more
ahead than otherwise, I had not noticed it when it came into the one I
was on. And as if by impulse I arose to my feet and followed it.
After walking about eight miles, I suddenly came to the breaks of the
South Canadian, and walking down a long, gradual draw, gently sloping
on each side, I came to the river, and saw that the trail crossed it
and that the main channel was hard against the south bank. I got a
sounding-stick and noted that the water was about three feet deep ten
feet from where the trail entered it. A few rods below I noticed a
sandbar projecting far out into the stream, which at this place was
about one hundred and twenty-five yards wide from bank to bank.
These southwestern streams are generally very sinuous, and the channel
frequently shifts from side to side, leaving the rest of the stream at
common or low stage of water, either in wet sandbars or a thin sheet of
water down to this bar.
I went, thinking I would pull off my shoes at the water's edge and wade
the river. I had walked out on this bar about sixty yards, when I heard
a noise behind me. I instantly stopped, looked around and saw two big
raccoons running along the bank, making their peculiar noise.
My feet began sinking the moment I stopped. I raised my left foot,
placing my weight on my right, and in drawing my left foot out of the
quicksand my foot pulled out of the shoe, so the stockinged foot came
down on the sand. I threw all my weight on it, pulled on the right, and
yanked, struggled, and floundered in quicksand; but finally extricated
myself and hurried back to solid footing, minus my left shoe.
About this time the wind began to rise, coming first from the
southeast. I saw, down the river about eighty rods, some large
scattering cottonwood trees. I unbuttoned my right legging, took a
four-in-hand silk necktie, wrapped the legging around my shoeless foot,
tied it as best I could, and went to the clump of trees.
Here I found a large cottonwood log, perfectly dry, that had recently
fallen. The top was considerably broken by the fall, and with an
abundance of broken limbs I soon had a fire. My feet, and my legs up
to my knees, were wet. The sand was gritted into my stockings and
drawer-legs, which was very uncomfortable, indeed. I stripped of pants,
drawers, and socks; propped up broken limbs for a drying-rack; took
off my coat and sat down upon it in front of the fire; rubbed and
thoroughly dried myself from the knees down. After my clothing had
dried, I beat the sand out of it and rigged up again.
Here in this sandy river-bottom was tall-stemmed grass. I got uneasy
about my fire; so I went to work to smother it out, by using my hands
for a shovel, and scooping sand and throwing it on the fire, which
had now burnt pretty well down. The fire had been built in lee of the
big log, and I had taken the precaution to trample the grass down
close around the bare spot of ground I had built the fire upon. Then I
would ignite the edge of the trampled grass, and, taking both leggings
in my right hand, would beat it out, when I thought it was near the
danger-line.
After getting the fire secure from spreading, I got up on the log and
looked down the river, then up stream, and across; but no sign of
mankind. Hunger seemed to be gnawing at my vitals. I would upbraid
myself for lack of wisdom, and thought how foolishly I had acted
in leaving the Mexican camp without my gun and knife. Here I was,
ravenously hungry; and here were deer, turkey, beaver, coon, buffalo
and antelope, a regular hunter's paradise, and I lost and helpless,
perfectly unable to help myself, with the fat of the land all around me.
I sat down on the log and commenced reasoning, with this result: I was
now in the South Canadian river bottom; the military trail from Fort
Dodge, on the Arkansas river, crossed the Canadian river on its way
to Fort Elliott, which, I had been informed while in Santa Fé, was
about thirty-five miles south of the crossing; that in going down the
Canadian river, from where I now was, one would have to pass the Adobe
Walls before coming to the trail.
I now decided that the sensible thing to do would be to go down the
river; that I was a young, strong man, and should brush all obstacles
aside; should decide on some certain route, follow that and not zigzag
on every trail I came to. Then I started and walked out to the foot of
the breaks, where the short grass came down to the bottom-lands, then
started down the river, hugging the bluffs and crossing the narrow
valley of the deeper breaks that ran far back toward the table-land or
plain, heading for the nearest and closest headland jutting toward the
river. Every mile or so I would have to stop and readjust the legging
on my shoeless foot.
I had gone perhaps five miles when I came to a very plain wagon-trail,
one that had been traveled considerably. It crossed the river not more
than 200 yards from where I came to it, and led up to the mouth of a
wide draw in a southeasterly course. I could see, too, that this trail
had been recently traveled over and the last outfit that had passed
over it had gone up the draw.
Thinking that this trail after getting to the head of the draw might
take an eastward trend, more down the river, I vacillated again, and
followed it up to the plateau. After getting to the top, this trail
followed a hogback for about a mile south, then, rounding the head of
another break to the east, it struck straight east, going down the
river about two miles from it. This pleased me, as the walking was much
better, and I could make better time.
As cloudy as it was, the points of the compass were as clear as a bell,
in my mind.
I had not proceeded far on this trail when suddenly the wind shifted
to the northwest, blowing quite strong, and soon scattering snowflakes
were falling. Traveling on about a mile farther, the trail came to the
head of a gradual draw running back toward the Canadian. There were
springs here, and here also the trail turned sharply to the southeast,
and I started down the draw for the Canadian river. By this time a
blinding snow-storm had set in, and I was traveling nearly due north.
The storm was pelting me from the northwest.
The only thing that preoccupied my mind now was shelter. Hence, I
hurried down the draw, hoping to come to the brakes and find some
side-break that would afford me wood and shelter.
Once I thought I was to be run over by a large herd of antelope; they
were running at a rapid rate in the wake of the storm crossing the draw
right at me, as it were, and before they were aware of my presence they
were almost upon me, but discovered me just in time to separate, some
jumping high, to left and right, the entire band passing on each side
of me. They came and were gone like the wind.
Soon the wind abated, and a steady, heavy fall of snow continued. The
flakes were so thick, for a short time, that it was hardly possible to
see any distance.
Pretty soon I heard an unusual noise just ahead of me, and all at once
I walked almost to the brink of a large pond. It was a "beaver dam,"
and it was beavers that I had heard. I saw four beavers. They were
disporting in the stream, and seemed as delighted as little children
could or would be when the first snowflakes of the season came.
After passing on down below the dam, just a little way, I stepped upon
a green stick of cottonwood about three feet long and about three
inches in diameter. I picked it up, and saw that both ends of the stick
had the tell-tale mark of beaver teeth. This greatly encouraged me; for
I knew I could not be far from wood.
Going on still farther, I perceived that the snow was not falling so
thick and that I could see quite a distance ahead, and on either side
of me, and also that night was drawing near.
Soon the hills on each side of me became higher and more rugged. In a
few minutes' walk I saw to my left a side cañon, or deep ravine, with
a heavy growth of young cottonwood trees. Turning into this gorge-like
place, to my exceeding joy I found an overjutting wall, and under it
had eddied a great pile of leaves from the cottonwood, hackberry, and
stunted elm. I soon found plenty of dead limbs and poles, which I
dragged and carried to the opposite of the projecting wall.
The reader will understand that this side draw faced and opened into
the main draw towards the east; this overjut was on the north side
of the draw, just at the extreme eastern edge of the pole and timber
thicket; and immediately south of the overjut it was not over eighty
feet to the base of the hill, or embankment, which was some forty feet
higher than my night's bed under the overjut.
I built my fire; turned over two old stumps that the beaver had cut
the trees from some years before; placed them side by side between the
fire and overjut. Then I sat down; pulled off my shoe and legging,
and proceeded to dry my socks and the bottoms of my pants legs; for
the snowfall was damp and my feet were very wet. The snow was still
falling, and continued to do so all that long November night.
I now felt the need of fixing my footwear differently; for I had had
trouble all day in keeping it on. I took the legging that I had not
worn on the foot, and placing it on the ground, put the foot down on it
and would fold it up this way, then would try it that way, and finally
decided that with a hole here, one there, and another at this place,
and then laced this way around the ankle, it could be kept on the foot
and not be so bunglesome, and would make a fair moccasin.
I took a dry elm stick, put one end in the fire and got it to burning
well; then would hold it on an incline and twirl it around, the charred
end on the solid place, on one of the stumps. I repeated this until
I got a marlinspike of it. I then took another stick, put the end of
it to a live coal, and would hold it on the places, on the improvised
moccasin, that had been marked with charcoal where the holes or eyelets
were to be. In this way a small eyelet at each place was scorched so
that the marlinspike could be worked through, and by reaming it a
little, soon had the eyelet-holes all completed.
Then, taking the silk four-in-hand and with good sharp teeth which I
then had, I managed to get it started and ripped it through the center
from end to end. This gave me two just such lace-strings as I needed.
Everything being dry, I put on the right shoe, laced on the moccasin,
crawled into the leaves,—tired, hungry, and sleepy, with not one
particle of fear of danger from the elements, which had concerned me so
much before I reached this sheltering place.
I was disturbed from my slumber only once during the night. It was
some time after darkness had set in when I crawled into and under the
leaves, and when I awoke it must have been about three o'clock in the
morning. The time is only guess-work with me, as I had no timepiece.
The fire was nearly out. I had drawn some of the wood under the
overjut, and as there was no snow on it I soon had a bright, cheerful
blaze going. I sat on the two stumps a few moments, and, feeling sleepy
again, I went to bed. It was then still snowing lightly.
I was awakened by the long-drawn-out howl of wolves, and on rising to
a sitting posture I noticed that the sky was clear as crystal, the sun
was shining brightly, and two big lobo or timber wolves were sitting on
their haunches just across the gorge on the edge of the hill, not more
than 130 feet from me, alternating in howling, both facing me and the
embers of my fire.
[Illustration: COOK SERENADED BY WOLVES.]
I got up and "chunked up" the fire, and piled on all the remaining wood
that I had gathered the evening before. I was well acquainted with the
cunning, cowardly wolf, and could only think of him with contempt.
I had read many stories of savage wolves, what they had done and what
they could do; but always accepted them with allowance. But here were
two of them face to face with me. No gun, no knife. I was not scared. I
had read of the effect fire had upon wolves, and, whether it was true
or not, resolved to give myself the benefit of the doubt.
Accordingly, I prepared me two strong firebrands. One was about three
and the other one four feet long. I worked them partly out of the fire,
and by rolling the ends in snow put out the fire to within about one
foot of the end of each one; and in walking out of the gorge to the
main draw I carried one in each hand, every once in a while flirting
them back and forth, to fan them so as to keep the fire on them alive.
The wolves did not follow me, nor did I really think they would, yet, I
had made such foolish moves for the past two days that I did not wish
to take chances on anything any more.
Instead of keeping on down the valley as I had at first intended to do,
I crossed it and ascended the eastern slope to the mesa or plateau,
upon coming to the top of which I stopped and scanned the country
over, hoping to see a smoke. For on these mornings when the landscape
is covered with snow and the air is frosty, smoke can be seen a long
way off. But nothing of the kind was visible.
I continued on in a northeasterly direction, aiming to strike the edge
of the river-bottom again, and determined now to stick to it when once
there, unless I saw a sure-enough camp away from it. The real pangs
of hunger had left me, but weakness was creeping on. The old elastic
step was gone. The snow was five inches deep. The sun was shining so
brightly that my eyes were burning.
Thanks to the wolves, I still had one of the charred sticks in my
hands. I pinched off flakes of charcoal with my finger-nails and
blackened my cheeks under my eyes. And was it providential that I
escaped snow-blindness?
Right here I wish to stop this narrative long enough to say that I
will put the Panhandle of Texas against any other 180 miles square of
territory in America for spasmodic, erratic weather. Before the sun
reached the meridian it was very warm. Not a breath of air seemed to
stir. The snow melted rapidly, and before the middle of the afternoon
it was a veritable slush; and I slowly spattered through it.
About 3 P. M., as I passed through a gap that separated quite a
flat-top from the main plateau I saw, first opposite a bend in the
river and off to my left, and fully a mile or more out from the river
and on the north side, I being on the south side, what I at first took
to be tents. Yes. I was sure I saw tents. That meant to me soldiers and
full rations.
Then I felt hungry! Oh, so hungry! The sight seemed to stimulate me,
and I moved on down the river until I came opposite the same objects,
but they now looked altogether different. I could not make out what I
had first seen; but I did see in the north and west a dark-blue cloud
near the horizon, rapidly rising.
Here the bluff came down close to the river, dropping down in benches
with a narrow sandy bottom. I went down near the river to where
there was a rack-heap or pile of driftwood; and, evening coming on,
I selected a place between two sand ridges and built a fire. Where I
built it it was not more than fifty feet from the water's edge, which
was very shallow, just barely a thin sheet of water, the channel
running against the north bank. After I had gotten the fire to burning
good, I went back up on the bench of land, to where I could see over to
the objects that had attracted my attention so much, and just as the
sun was disappearing behind the hills the blue cloud had settled back.
Not definitely making out what any of the objects were, I went back to
the fire.
Just then I heard the sound, as if it were an ax, in the direction
I had been looking. It was repeated several times, and then all was
silence. Soon it began to turn very cold, and by morning had frozen the
river, in the shallow places along the bars. There was no grass where I
built the fire. I had made it in a basin between two sand ridges; and
when it had burned to a bed of coals I took the end-gate of a wagon,
which I found in the driftwood, and separated the coals to right and
left, to some little distance from the fire-bed. Then I built two fires
and stretched myself out in the original warm fire-bed between the two
fires. I was resting, but could not sleep for hours,—or so it seemed
to me. I kept turning from side to side, at first on account of the
heat in the sand under me; then I would get up from time to time and
replenish the fires.
Finally I fell into a dreamy slumber, from which I would suddenly
arouse, and at one time in the night, when I became thoroughly
awakened, I was fully five rods from the fire. This gave me much
concern. I had dreamed that some one wanted my bed and had driven me
away from it, and I must have left my bed while I was asleep.
Here I uttered the first word I had heard since leaving the camp of the
Mexicans. "No," I said; "I am here alone."
It was very cold, and I judged by the Dipper, that grand old night
clock of the hunter and cowboy, that it would soon be morning: and to
my intense delight it was but a short time until I heard a rooster
crow. The sound came from the object I had previously seen, and the
place from where I had heard the strokes of the axe. Again and again
that welcome sound came to my ears, and two miles away, as I soon
learned. Then just at good broad daylight, I heard the bark of a dog.
I picked up a strong cottonwood stick about eight feet long and three
inches in diameter and started for the river. The ice at the margin
for three or four steps bore my weight. I would use the stick for two
purposes: when the ice would no longer hold me up, I would with the
stick break it ahead until I got to the main channel; then I would use
it for a sounding-pole, step by step reaching ahead and thrusting it
to the bottom. The water was about 100 feet wide from shore to bar,
and ran from sheet water to three feet in depth at the north bank,
which was a cut bank, the top of which was nearly three feet above the
surface of the water. Placing both hands on top of the bank, I pulled
myself up and had both elbows on the bank, wriggling myself to get one
knee up on the bank, when my hat dropped into the water. In easing back
I let go too soon, and was nearly submerged. I got the hat, and waded
down-stream nearly 200 yards before I found a place where I could get
out.
After getting up on the bank I struck out as rapidly as my strength
would permit. After going about a mile I saw a horseman coming from the
west as fast as his horse could run. He rode up to the objects that had
attracted my attention the afternoon before, and soon two men on foot
came out, and all ran toward me. I kept my speed up to the limit until
we met. I noticed they all had guns and were excited. The horseman was
the coolest one of the party. I said, "Don't get uneasy, men; I'm all
right. I've been lost."
The two men afoot handed their guns to the man that was mounted. Then,
getting on either side of me, each one took a lifting hold under each
of my arms to assist me. I said, "Oh, no, gentlemen—I am not that bad
off;" but they clung to me. "George," said the old man, "You ride ahead
quick and tell Mother to have the coffee hot."
My first question was, "What place is this?"
"It is the Adobe Walls," came the response.
We were soon inside the walls, and a cup of coffee, one biscuit, a
small piece of fried buffalo-meat, and about two spoonfuls of gravy
were set before me. I had told them I had eaten nothing since the
fourth morning before this morning. I was told to eat slowly and sip my
coffee. The old lady said:
"Now we want you to have just all you can eat whenever we think you can
stand it." And she added: "This is not new to us; two regular soldiers
came to our place on the Picket Wire [Purgatoire] in Colorado, who had
been lost for four days, and it was all we could do to keep them from
gorging themselves; but they were both just about crazy, for, after
losing their way, and getting completely lost, they lost their heads
and one of them never did recover his mind."
After I had eaten everything placed in sight, I was furnished with dry
clothing, a large pan of warm water, soap, and towel. A wagon-sheet
had been stretched across a part of the room of the stockade that we
were in, and before going behind this curtain to bathe and change my
clothing I took a look at myself in a looking-glass that was handed to
me. I had not washed since taking the bath in the pool the first day
out.
And it was no wonder the children, and older ones, too, stared at me
as they did; for I really was a fright. My hair was quite thick, and
longer than I usually wore it, not having had it cut at the usual
time. It was matted, snarled, and shaggy-looking. My mustache was
singed; beard was two weeks old, dirty, and full of grit; my face was
charcoaled; hands dirty and grimy. My eyes were sunken back in their
sockets; and all in all I was a frightful-looking object, and looked
like an object of suspicion.
Just then I happened to remember my papers that I had in an inside
pocket of my overshirt. Unbuttoning my shirt-front I took out my
papers, the bottom ends of which were wet, handed them to the old man
and said: "Read those; they will tell you who and what I am; and when
I wash and get on dry clothes I will tell you how I came to be here in
this fix."
The man who had ridden the horse went back of the curtain with me and
said: "Now I'll help you all I can." After disrobing, we both soaped,
lathered, and rinsed, and rubbed, until the glow came all over the
body. Then I put on an entire suit of Buck Wood's clothes, he being
about my size and build.
By the time I got back into the presence of the family, they had read
my papers, and a letter from U. S. Senator Preston B. Plumb introducing
and recommending me to his cattle partner, Major Hood.
The old gentleman then said to me, "We are the Wood family, well known
down in Arkansaw, Texas and Colorado. Mr. Cook, this is my wife." We
shook hands. "This is my oldest son; Buchanan is his name; this is
his wife; and this is George Simpson, her brother. These are the two
oldest girls, Virginia and Georgia, and these little ones are all our
children. We are on our way from the Picket Wire [Purgatoire], near Las
Animas, to Fort Elliott. We just stopped here until the snow-storms
were over, and had intended to pull out and go about twelve miles
to-day, but as it is we will lie over to-day and give you a rest."
I said: "I certainly appreciate that, and thank you ever so much."
Just then George Simpson went back of the curtain and brought out my
wet duds. It was then that I first thought of my money, since I had
gotten so wet and was so long getting out of the river.
I said: "Mr. Simpson, I am afraid my money is wet. I never thought of
it till now. It's all currency, but a little change. Let's take it and
see the condition it's in."
The purse was of buckskin and opened by twisting two steel knobs. The
bills had to be folded twice for the purse to contain them, amply.
There were two compartments in the pocket-book. In one there were three
twenty- and two ten-dollar bills. The other contained two five-dollar
bills, a five-dollar gold-piece (the first one I ever had), and one
dollar and sixty cents in silver coin.
He handed me the purse, which was sopping wet. I laid it on the
dining-table and asked Mrs. Wood to please care for it, adding, "that
she could handle the money more deftly than I could." She complied with
my request; took out the money and placed each bill separately upon
a clean, dry pillow-case. It was all wet through, but the bills were
not chafed, and she dried them and the purse so nicely that I had no
trouble in using the money. The coin I gave to the little children, in
spite of the protests of the parents.
After Mrs. Wood had spread the bills out to dry, she poured out a cup
of coffee and gave it to me, together with a biscuit and a slice of
meat, all of which I ate ravenously, and asked for more. She said,
"N-o! you will have to wait a while." Of course I submitted, but, I do
think that at that moment I was hungrier than I had been at any time
since I had left the Mexican outfit.
After the money and that portion of my papers that had got wet were
dried, Mrs. Wood handed them to me, saying, "These are all right now,
and by to-morrow you will be yourself again."
I had started in twice before to tell them how I happened to be in
such a condition; but they would divert me by making some irrelevant
remark about their horses, or "Look out, boys, and see if you can see
any buffalo," and wind up by saying they were anxious to hear how it
happened, but they wanted to be all together when I related it.
The fact was: I had laughed outright when I sat down to the table, when
I first arrived; then again I laughed when putting on Buck's clothes.
They mistook the looks of my eyes, and the actions of the two lost
soldiers were in their minds; so they thought I was on the border-land
of daftness. All this they told me a month later.
At the dinner hour I ate two biscuits, though I could have eaten ten.
They said, "Drink all the coffee you want and to-morrow you can have
all the bread and meat you can eat."
About 3 o'clock in the afternoon I went to sleep on a bed they had
prepared for me early in the forenoon, behind the curtain. Nor did I
wake up until seven o'clock the next morning, having slept soundly for
sixteen hours. Nor did I know for nearly a month afterward, that the
three men had taken turns, time about, all night, watching me. They
said they did not know what might happen; for one of the lost soldiers
from old Fort Bent, on the Arkansas, had got up in the night, and with
a neck-yoke in his hands was striking right and left at imaginary foes,
saying, "Come on, you copper-skinned devils; I'm good for the whole
Cheyenne tribe!"
When I came out in the presence of the family, Mr. Wood asked me how I
felt. I said: "Splendid; I slept good and sound all night, and I could
walk forty miles to-day." The breakfast had been over for an hour. My
breakfast was awaiting me; and, after taking a good wash I sat down
to a plate piled up with biscuits, another with several great slices
of tender buffalo-meat, stewed apples, and rich milk gravy (they had
three cows with them). Strong coffee completed the "bill of fare." And
I could, and _I did, eat all I wanted_. The women-folks had washed,
dried, and ironed my clothes.