Arrival of Lesher and Wonderly--Our Start South--First Buffalo
Herd--Cimaron River--Strayed Team--Old Hunters--How to Hunt
Buffaloes--Wolf Hunt--Prairie Fire--Herd at Ten-Mile
Creek--Blizzard--Find a Frozen Man--Hide Season Ends.
When the October sun was creeping from the horizon and the melancholy
winds were roaring over the dry, brown prairie, two young men of
Montgomery County, Ohio,--Charles Wonderly and David Lesher,--came out
on the train and met us at Granada. Being now a party of four, we were
well prepared, and went to Las Animas to lay in supplies for a buffalo
campaign. We bought flour, meal, salt, pepper, tobacco, etc., and a few
sacks of _corn_ to feed our horses when the winter’s snow had come. We
also took a keg of brandy, for _snake-bites_, and enough ammunition to
kill everything in Texas. We then came east, into the Arkansas Valley,
intending to strike south from Granada.
When we got within fifteen miles of Granada some cow-boys came riding up
the valley, spurring their ponies to their utmost, and warning settlers
that a band of _Cheyennes_ had been seen down the river. Great
excitement prevailed for the safety of the wives and children,
who--there being but a few families--were hurried to the ranche of
Captain Irwin. We brought our ponies under the cover of our guns, and
took quarters in the same _adobe_ hut.
John and myself had seen a little skirmishing before, and by this time
were pretty well acclimated; but Dave and Charles!--boys just from
protected homes and the quietude of civilization,--imagine their
feelings after reading of the bloody deeds of the red-man, and now that
their yells were in their very ears.
The windows and port-holes were thrown open, and with Sharpe’s rifles in
our hands we keenly watched for a red devil upon whom to try our skill.
There was a _school-marm_ staying there, to teach the children of Mr.
Irwin, and with her I had previously become acquainted. After waiting
for some time for _Indians_, I concluded to take advantage of the
occasion, and to beat my sword into a pruning-hook and try to hook a
little _love_ out of the _school-marm_. She was late from the East,
and, it is needless to say, was much excited. This made her quite
gentle; and by assuming a brave appearance, with my big gun in hand and
telling her there was no danger, I gained her confidence, and she hung
to my arm like a squirrel to a hickory sapling when hunters are thick.
You may all talk about Indians being good marksmen, but I will venture
to say that there is not an Indian in the whole Cheyenne nation that
could shoot me nearer the heart than did that school-marm in the little
_adobe_ ranche.
Hours flew by like leaves before the wind, and at length a man came
riding up and stated that he was the person who gave the alarm. He was a
tender-foot cow-boy. He stated that one of their boys had started upon
his pony to cross the plain to another range about twenty miles distant;
that just as he was going over the raise he saw four or five Indians on
horseback cut him off from camp and chase him out of sight, quirting
their ponies to their utmost speed. He had also heard a shot fired, and
which he supposed had told his death. We questioned him very closely,
and told him how he might have been deceived; but he was very positive,
and said he would swear to his statement. At this, four of us, well
mounted and with each a brace of six-shooters and a Sharpe’s rifle,
started out to trace up our friend. We went to the raise where he said
he had seen them pass over, and by a careful examination could discover
but one horse-track in the sand, and this showed that the horse had been
running. After scouring the country for several miles and seeing but the
single track, all began to theorize how he might have been deceived; and
although he expressed himself very positive, we concluded to go back and
wait until morning, when the young man was to come back.
It was an anxious night for the settlers, who expected a general
slaughter in the valley; and the bloody outrages committed in the
neighboring ranges, of which reports had been coming in daily from all
directions, lent terror to those who had infants to protect. As for me,
Indians or no Indians, what cared I so the school-marm came off safely!
At last the darkness began to give way to the light of the morn; and
about nine o’clock, through a field-glass, from a house-top, an object
was sighted in the distance. Nearer and nearer and plainer and plainer
it became, until we were all satisfied that the lost was found and the
dead had come to life. He was much surprised at the excitement his
little chase had caused. He said that just as he was going over the
raise he chased four great sand-hill cranes, and shot at them over the
hill. The scene was now explained and the mystery solved. These cranes
are large, and in flying along close to the ground our friend had
imagined the long, slender wings whipping the air, to be Indian arms
whipping their ponies; and knowing them to be in the country still
colored the imagination. The young man was much mortified at his
deception; and they all laughed at him so much that he peered toward the
hills as though wishing the Indians would come and ally with him to kill
the whole valley. This little incident taught us to always be on our
guard and to never run until we saw the elephant.
The school-marm thanked me for my kindness, and gave me an affectionate
good-by; and as we pulled out she looked after us, and Dave and Charles
drew long breaths, as though envying me my affectionate relations with
the Birdie of the prairie.
Leaving the valley and going south, we came upon a broad, level plain,
where the horizon looked like a great wagon-wheel and we could see many
miles in all directions. The first water was _Plum Creek_, in nine
miles. This is a dry gulch running through the prairie, with pools every
mile or two. In very dry summers they become dry. The next water was
Butte Creek, in six miles; and here we camped for the night. This is
like Plum Creek, only the gulch is very deep and the country is
extremely rough upon either side. The valley is full of cotton-wood
trees and brier-bushes; and the hungry wolves howled loudly behind every
hill. Dave and Charles had heard _too much_ about wolves to rest easily
where they were so numerous; and the roar of their rifles and
six-shooters made the night a lively one. In the morning several big
grays lay dead in the valley as the result of the late lead-storm. I
told them that they would have to be saving with the ammunition; but
they said ammunition would be of no use when they were devoured by
wolves, and we would have been eaten up alive that very night had they
not fought so hard; “for,” said they, “as we sat by the fire their eyes
glittered among the hills like stars in the heavens, and every now and
then a big fellow would howl out at our very sides, as much as to say,
‘I got him.’”
We took an early start, and traveled over the dry country until the sun
was hiding himself in the west, when, having traveled full thirty miles,
we again came among the hills and caught sight of the tops of some
little trees that grew in a deep gulch, and we knew we were now near
water.
We had advanced but a short distance after sighting the trees when we
also saw some dark objects just beyond. “Buffaloes!” was the first flash
through our minds; and our field-glass told us that we were right.
Buffaloes were what we were hunting; and, mounting my pony, with my big
Sharpe in hand, I was soon wending my way down the deep, dry gulch until
I was just opposite the herd; and, tying the pony to a cotton-wood, I
crawled up to survey. There were thirty-eight in the herd, and they were
leisurely feeding up a green ravine that lay parallel with Bear Creek
and led into it some distance below. They were several hundred yards
south of me, but by crawling cautiously along I succeeded in getting
into the ravine about four hundred yards above them without being
noticed, and impatiently awaited the oncome. When they got within about
three hundred yards of me some of the old bulls appeared to see me, and,
with heads erect, on they came, stopping at intervals to paw the earth
and ring my ears with their bellowing. The whole herd at length saw me,
and curiously started to inspect the dark object stretched out upon the
plain before them. I thought about _shooting_ until they were within two
hundred yards of me, when my giant strength failed me and I lay like the
slain Goliath, helplessly stretched upon the earth. I had often heard of
_buck-ague_, but if that was _my_ attack I am sure its effects were
never fully described; for I felt as though a bucketful of blood jumped
through my heart at a time, and every time my pulse beat I believe I
jumped four inches from the sod. This was the first wild herd I had ever
seen; and having my first experience upon the open plain all by myself,
without a tree to climb or a stump to hide behind in case of immersion,
I must say somewhat _terrified_ me; and while thinking of all the danger
I _might_ be in, they suddenly started off in a lope, as though scenting
me, and certainly to my very great relief. This was now my opportunity
to try my hand; and, running to the top of a little knoll, I took aim
from my knee at an old bull that had stopped to look back, and pulled. I
did not _consider_ that I was firing a _one-hundred-grain gun_, and
having my nose entirely too close it was some time before I was
conscious of what had taken place. When the blood had stopped running
and the smoke had cleared away, and I found that I had not shot myself,
I looked up to see the last buffalo disappear behind the raise.
Sheepishly I retired, amid the shouts from the boys; and though we had
no success _this time_ we knew that we were now in the buffalo region at
last, and supposed ourselves more _able_ to tackle the next gang, be it
great or small.
The water of which we just spoke we learned to be Bear Creek; and a
pretty ravine it was, too. The water stood in little pools like _Butte
Creek_, and these were fed by springs. There were a great many cattle
and rich pasture there, and old cow-camps were to be seen all up and
down the creek. Stopping here for several days, we enjoyed ourselves
very much in the thick shade of the little trees through the heat of the
day; and though we saw no more _buffalo_, antelopes were numerous, and
we had much sport shooting these shy creatures as they came down
unconsciously from the plain to quench their thirst from the pools among
the mighty Bear Creek bluffs. Charles had never shot an antelope; and to
describe the maneuvering of his first experience would fill a volume.
One morning he came running into camp and said that a flock of antelopes
were coming in to water just below, and grabbing a rifle he dashed away.
I followed him closely, and when he crawled up behind a rock to shoot I
was near him behind another and could see it all. Down came a big buck
to the pool, and after looking slyly around began to drink. This was
Charley’s opportunity; and after going through all the motions of a
monkey in a show-pen, whang went the rifle, and down came the buck.
“Right through the heart, by thunder!” said he, and throwing down his
rifle he dashed upon his prey. He had caught him through the loins; and
though the buck struggled hard, Charley hung to him like a Dutch
butcher, and at last cut off his wind. I made off for camp, and Charley
never knew that I was near. Soon he came in whistling, with the buck
across his back; and though it weighed at least one hundred and
twenty-five pounds, he stood in camp full five minutes with the buck
upon his back, explaining how he did it. We all laughed a great deal at
Charley’s shooting antelope through the heart, and he often asked us how
the devil we knew where he aimed.
We at length grew eager for another trial at the kings of the prairie,
and pulled out for the Cimaron River, where we expected to make a
head-quarter camp and put in the winter hunting over the South. We
reached the river after a march of about thirty miles, and were now
about seventy-five miles south of the A., T., & S. F. R. R., and all
civilization. Skirting the banks of every water we had yet passed were
little trees; but here there was not even a twig the size of a finger.
We had learned before to burn _buffalo-chips_, and as far as _fuel_ was
concerned we were all right; but the next question, and the most
_perplexing_, was how to make a house in which to store our supplies,
and for our protection in winter, as well as a retreat from danger. Here
lay the spade and there stuck the pick, but the only material we could
see for a _house_ was the dry earth. Dave was a carpenter, and we told
him he should begin the frame. But he said he was not used to working in
that kind of timber. We found a deep dry gulch leading to the river, and
going to work we soon had a chamber dug in the bank, eighteen feet long
and twelve feet wide, four feet deep on the lower side, and seven feet
deep on the high side, with a narrow pass-way into the gulch. We then
dug a fireplace in the high side, and worked from top and bottom until
we finished the flue. All was then completed but the roof; and using our
tent-poles for supporters, we stretched a couple of wagon-sheets from
the high to the low side, and pegged them to the ground at each end. We
had thus a tolerably safe retreat from the wind and sun; and moving all
our things in there, we concluded to wait for a few days and then go to
Bear Creek for poles to put on a _good roof_. The weather being very
fine, and not having seen a sprinkle for many days, we put the work off
from time to time; and one evening of the first week in our new abode,
when least expecting it, we were much surprised to see the sky suddenly
veil itself with dark clouds, and empty its flood upon us. I had read
about the _windows of heaven_ being opened, but, my God! I thought the
whole side of the house had fallen out upon this occasion. The floor of
our house was sticky clay, and not having seen a sprinkle for so long,
while our muslin roof carried off the dampness, we enjoyed the occasion
very much. Soon, however, the ground began to soften, the pins to pull
out, and the fun was then at an end. The water falling upon the loose
canvas, it bagged down, and directly out came a peg, and splash came two
or three buckets of water into our new house. Seeing that we might as
well have no cover at all, we piled our things upon boxes and covered
them with oilcloth, and took it as it came. Our _tent_ was ripped to
pieces, and this was our only scheme. Soon the mud was ankle-deep all
over our new floor, and the last smoke slowly curled from the few damp
buffalo-chips that lay frying upon the hearth. Our condition about that
time was not at all _enviable_; and we looked in every direction and
contemplated every scheme. But we at last concluded that foxes have _dry
holes_, and the birds of the air have _sheltered nests_; but greenhorn
_buffalo-hunters_ must stand in mud up to their knees and be baptized in
a way that God knows is not agreeable to anybody’s belief. Charles and
myself figured on the wagon, and throwing a lot of wolf-hides and our
harness upon the ground, we crawled under the wagon upon them; and
wrapping ourselves in our wet blankets, we took the collars for pillows
and tried to think ourselves comfortable. But the wind was blowing
fiercely and the rain falling at an incredible rate. We were soon
completely drenched; and the water gurgled good, good, good, down
through the horse-collars. The water was rushing in torrents down the
hill-sides, and stood in sheets upon the level. We saw clearly that it
was _immersion_ or get out of there, and we chose the _latter_. Our wits
were then at an end, and we concluded that if we owned _hell_ and _that
country_, we would rent out the _latter_ and live in the _former_. A
chicken sitting out upon the naked limb of an apple-tree in a cold
_winter’s storm_ is not to be compared to a boy standing in mud
knee-deep, with water dashing about his ears like a water-wheel, and
pouring from his nose like a house-spout, and not even a pin to hang
himself up on. Dave was all the while silent, and seated upon a box in
the dug-out, wrapped in a blanket, and looking into the fireplace as
though comparing the place with _hell_, and _rebel prisons_, and all
other noted places in his dreams. John had learned some of the western
dialect, and was seated upon the wagon, with a blanket over him,
rehearsing what he had learned; and I thought from what little I knew of
it he succeeded very well, and learned fast, and remembered first-rate.
We, however, were living, though not in the best of humor, when about
three o’clock in the morning it suddenly turned cold and began to sleet.
Now if any _painter_ can picture the scene of that camp, or any writer
describe the condition and feeling of that party who groped in the
darkness of that cave on the banks of the Cimaron on that cold, dreary
morn, he must have been there himself. Every blanket that we had, and
every thread of clothing that wrapped our forms was wet and dripping.
There was not a dry piece of fur; and we raced over the prairie and
rubbed ourselves to keep the blood in circulation. I tell you the sharp
wind that whistled by and roared among the hills soon aroused Dave from
his slumbers, and he was the most frantic racer I ever saw. He could run
over a jack-rabbit in one hundred yards. When we were tired of running,
with pick and spade we set to work digging in the earth at the mouth of
the dug-out to keep warm and to lower it so as to drain out the water
and mud. Morning came and we were still alive, but redder noses than
ours never roamed a Colorado dram-shop. Our horses, too, were covered
with ice, and must have felt pretty uncomfortable. At length the sun
slowly rolled from the horizon and sent his sparkling beams upon the
dismal plain, and drew all animation to the eastern slopes. By great
exercise we managed to dry our clothes upon us, and felt pretty
comfortable again.
We had now escaped the _cold_, but the _hunger part_ was yet to come.
_John_ and _myself_ had had an experience of fourteen days upon
_flap-jacks_, and two days and a half without _eating or drinking_, and
of course _we_ did not figure quite as closely as _Dave_ and _Charles_,
who had been but a few weeks from the land of plenty and comfort.
Nevertheless, we had to fast that day until toward evening, when we
found some small rushes upon the banks of the river, which were dried in
the sun. Placing some bones together, we built a fire upon them with the
rushes and kept it up until the bones were heated. Then slicing some
meat real fine, we put it in a thin sheet-iron skillet, and placing it
upon the heated bones, and continually applying rushes, we were enabled
to fry ourselves a little repast. This was a new scheme, and while
delighted with our ingenuity we _forgot_ that we had nothing but _meat_,
and thought it the best meat we had eaten for many days. We were very
glad to see the face of the plain once more dry, and determined to
prepare for the next immersion.
The next day Charles and myself started for Bear Creek for poles, and
John and Dave stayed with the camp. We got to Bear Creek that day and
cut the poles in the evening, and the next morning started back. About
sunset we were at home; and the next day we placed the poles over the
hole or cave, and after covering them with rushes, applied a coat of
dirt. Our house was then completed, and we were prepared for future
contingencies.
Here was the tender-foot outfit, our home a dark cave in the bluff of
the Cimaron, seventy-five miles from the smallest settlement, and our
only neighbors the wild animals of the plain. Our long-hunted range was
at last reached, and the buffalo could be seen upon the distant
hill-sides, and their lowing could be distinctly heard. The gray wolf,
of which we had heard so much, was here too in such numbers as to be
very bold; and their piercing howls, which would make the boldest
inexperienced man shudder, could be heard at night at our very door.
Being now in the _happy hunting-ground_, we prepared for a big hunt. We
had the Sharpe rifle,--forty-five caliber, one hundred grains,--and
forty-five caliber _Colt_, and _Smith & Wesson_ six-shooters. Having the
best of fire-arms, and loads of ammunition, we felt ourselves a match
for anything that chose a daylight battle; and now for the hunt.
By having our camp so well concealed, the game at first came close
around the dug-out, entirely unconscious of an enemy; but from the daily
explosions in that ravine they soon learned to be shy, and appeared to
regard the little hole in the ground as a dangerous place.
We saw our first antelope in western Nebraska, where they were so wild
that the most experienced hunter could scarcely ever succeed in killing
one. They had become more and more numerous, however, until we were now
in their very homes, and little bands could be seen upon every hill.
This animal is some larger than a sheep, and is white-and-brown spotted.
The bucks are the larger, and have horns about eight inches long. They
are the most vigilant animal of the prairie; and in their most quiet
state usually take one bite and two looks, and upon the least alarm
start off at such speed as to almost baffle the eye. We had exhausted
our ingenuity and had many days’ experience before we could successfully
make our bullets tell in the vigilant herds. The following are some of
the successful schemes: In cold, stormy weather they take shelter in the
ravines and behind the bluffs, and of course can then be readily shot,
in a rough country; but in ordinary weather they usually keep upon _high
places_, so that you can scarcely ever get near enough to shoot them
without being detected. In this case, take a horse and start off
obliquely toward them; be upon the leeward side, and never look directly
at them. Keep sidling toward the flock, and going round, but be
_cautious_ that you never go directly toward them. In this way one can
often get within shooting distance, which is fair at four hundred
yards. If you have no _horse_, go as closely as you can without being
detected, and then crawl,--always keeping the wind of them, as they will
scare quicker at scent than at sight. When they look toward you, do not
move a finger, and look down; but when they are not looking, crawl
quickly. They usually become very curious, and come toward you, snuffing
the air and stamping their feet. Then watch your chance; for when they
are once satisfied that you are an enemy, and start to run, you might as
well try to shoot the lightning’s glare. A _red flag_ is a very good
thing to tie on your _hat_, and then get in some conspicuous place and
lie still. It will not be long before they will come to see you. They
are very sharp, and use great cunning in investigating the dangers that
lurk in their vicinity. They can often be deceived by getting some one
to drive a wagon obliquely toward them, and at some place near, where
there is a little raise or bunch of weeds or grass, jump off while the
wagon is moving. Be careful that you are not detected. They will watch
the team very closely, and as the wagon circles to the other side of
them and their backs are turned to you, you can often crawl upon them
without being discovered. If they start to run, just throw a ball in
the sand ahead of them. Several balls will often so excite them that
they are as apt to run toward you as any other way. Always shoot behind
the shoulder, if possible; for they are animals of such great spirit
that anything but a mortal shot does not appear to disable them; and I
have heard of an antelope with three legs broken and both eyes shot out,
outrunning a horse in a fair race. I shall not vouch for the truth of
this, but there is _more_ truth about it than any person who has never
seen an antelope would be willing to believe. Any person who can hunt
this animal with success is truly an ingenious sportsman.
We took advantage of the buffaloes that came among the river-hills near
our camp, and in a couple of days we had a load of meat, consisting of
shoulder-clods, saddles, humps, and tongues; and Dave and myself started
north to the Arkansas Valley to sell out, while John and Charles stayed
in camp. We made it to _Bear Creek_ in one day, Butte Creek the _next_,
and the third day about noon we came to the railroad. There were many
emigrants going up the valley to the mountains, and to these and the
settlers we had no trouble in disposing of our load at five cents per
pound. The load brought us just fifty dollars.
We found it a little unhandy to have our grub and cooking outfit
scattered promiscuously through the wagon, and I thought it would be
nice and convenient to have a mess-box. So, the morning that we started
back for camp we passed by a neat little _adobe_ house, and we stopped
to ask the man for his doors, to make a mess-box. There was no one
about, so we took off the only two doors and drove on. Dave, with all
his Methodist Episcopal modesty,--which he had forgotten to leave at
home,--said it was not _right_ to take the doors; but I told him that I
was a member of the Colorado State Board of Equalization; and a house
without doors was still better than doors without a house. This was
downright hunter’s logic.
We camped at Butte Creek for the night, and in the evening we worked up
the doors. We made a cupboard three feet high, as _wide_ as the
wagon-bed, and fourteen inches deep; and then boxed and shelved it to
suit our needs, leaving a space to the right large enough for a
fifty-pound sack of flour, and in the bottom of the cupboard a space for
the bread-pan, oven, frying-pan, etc. The rest was partitioned off in
smaller spaces for pepper, salt, baking-powder, etc. Then, taking out
the end-gate, we set the cupboard in the back part of the wagon and
passed the bed-rods through it, and it was fastened. We then made a door
large enough to cover the face of the cupboard, and with the hinges that
we had saved from the doors hinged it to the bottom of the wagon-bed;
and making a latch to the top of the cupboard, with a piece of calf-hide
and a pin, the box was neatly finished. I then cut off a stick the
height of the bottom of the wagon-bed, and wiring it to the door where
it was latched, the thing was completed. The lid could be unlatched,
and, coming down, it would rest upon the stake, and there was a table,
and everything in the mess-chest was clean and handy. This arrangement
was so splendid that a broad grin came over Dave’s face in _spite_ of
his _conscience_.
The next morning we arose and started for Bear Creek, reaching it just
at sunset. Wishing to give our team as much range as possible without
leaving them entirely free (and having no hobbles), we took a
picket-rope about thirty feet long and tied one end around each horse’s
neck. We thought they would hardly stray far from camp; and after
watching them for a while, and discovering that they never both took a
notion to go the same way, we felt that they were secure, and after
supper lay down for the night. The weather was warm, the evening was
beautiful, and our sleep was sweet. At daylight I arose to look for the
horses. I went among the hills and upon the highest bluffs, and peered
in every direction; but there was not a horse in sight. We tried to
track them, but they had no _shoes_ on, and their tracks could not be
distinguished from those of the wild herds. After hunting among the
hills and down the ravines until noon, we concluded that they must have
gone back to the railroad to tell the fellow who took his doors. We had
left the riding ponies at the camp upon the Cimaron, and we were now
left afoot. We had turned them upon the north side of the creek, and not
being able to find where they had crossed over to the south, our
suspicion was strengthened; and taking a few biscuits in our pockets,
with compass in hand, we struck northward across the thirty-mile stretch
of dry plains for Butte Creek. We had nothing to carry water in, and a
pint of brandy was all we took to drink.
The afternoon was very warm, and the sand was burning hot. The brandy
tasted like _sugar-water_, and was gone before we had traveled five
miles. We became very dry when we were about midway; but the dwellings
and shade trees were very scarce in that country, and we were compelled
to stand it. One of my boots rubbed a great blister upon my heel, and I
pulled the boot off and went barefooted. The foot soon became sore upon
the scorching sand, and tearing a sleeve from my hunting-coat I tied it
around my foot for a moccasin. All animals range along the _water_,
feeding out from five to eight miles; and there were several miles of
our journey upon which there was not an animal or insect, and the
country was level as a floor. We sat down now and then to rest; but it
was a rather _uncomfortable_ rest. We were compelled to walk very
_rapidly_ to reach water that night; and as we rushed along, the bright
sun and the heat that curled from the hot sand almost blinded us.
Once, while we were sitting down, we saw something that looked like
horses far to the north, and taking our glass we fully convinced
ourselves that we were right; for we could plainly see them walking
along tied together. We kept our eyes upon them, and in two hundred
yards we came upon two old _buffalo bones_, which the _mirage_ had
loomed up into large objects. We then saw how mirage could deceive,
especially when aided by imagination.
The _walk_ would have been nothing if we could have had _water;_ but I
tell you we were pretty well dried out when a little after _sunset_ we
came among the Bear Creek hills. A little stream came crystalling down
from a spring away up in the bluff; and after drinking of its beautiful
waters and taking a good wash, we looked around for the horses, knowing
that if they had struck the creek they would not leave the water for
_several hours_ at least. Anxious to intercept their further travel to
the north, we went up and down the creek by the moonlight for several
miles; but no horses.
We came upon an old picket _cow-ranch_ among the hills, and concluded to
stop there until morning. We were met at the door by three or four
skunks, which in spite cf our friendly salute opened a double-barrel
fire upon us with their heads the other way. They were very obstinate,
and we were compelled to kill them. We then had control of the shanty,
which smelled like a reservoir of cologne for the rest of the night.
There was a little stone fireplace in one end of the house, and we built
a fire to keep away the wolves and skunks. We had no _blankets_, but
were doing very well, when about eleven o’clock the wind arose and it
turned cold. We then needed a fire; but the little trees were mostly
_green_, and there was no _loose wood_, and we had no _ax_. There were
two holes for windows and a big place for a door, and these being open
the cold wind went howling through our house like a breeze from the
north pole. The house was made with poles put in the ground close
together, and we began at the door to tear out the posts for fuel. The
wind blew colder and colder, and toward morning a light snow fell. There
was very little of the _house left_ when the morning dawned, and we
could not help thinking of the man along the Arkansas who was living in
the house that belonged to our doors. We had not seen any _game_, so a
biscuit was our breakfast. We felt _first-rate_, but one of my feet
being one blister from heel to toe, and the other terribly _rubbed_, a
long walk was to me a little disagreeable; and I determined to patronize
the first shoe-maker I crossed.
The morning was very cool, and we thought it best for Dave to return to
the wagon at Bear Creek, and I would go to the _river_; and if our team
had not come up there I was to buy another and return. I had torn the
sleeves from my coat, and Dave had given me a large handkerchief. With
these I wrapped my feet; but they were so terribly sore and swelled that
I could scarcely stand. Dave dashed to the south with his compass in one
hand and his rifle in the other, and I hobbled to the north. I broke
myself two _canes_; and after I got warmed up I flew rapidly along, and
came into Granada at nine o’clock. I found out that _day_ that our
horses had not _been seen_; so in the evening I bought two good ponies,
and in the morning started for Bear Creek. A little before sunset I came
among the hills, and struck the creek a mile below the wagon. On my way
up I came upon Dave in a deep ravine, roasting a piece of a deer he had
killed. I brought a quart of _pepper-sauce_ along down from Granada, and
this, with a good square mess of roast venison, made us feel first-rate.
We sat around the fire talking and chatting and broiling venison most of
the night; and there was not much of the deer-saddle left in the
morning. We then hooked up our ponies; and though they were a little
_wild_, we went prancing along for the Cimaron. We came into camp at
sunset and found the boys well, but very _uneasy_ lest we had lost our
compass and become bewildered, or had been cut off by the Indians. We
had exchanged teams, and had a great deal of promiscuous experience
since we parted; and this, with the story of the cupboard, furnished
enough narrative with which to interest John and Charles the greater
part of the night. Charles said it was all right to take the _doors_ if
there were no _ready-made cupboard_ in the house; otherwise, it was a
sin (in Colorado). We spread our blankets and lay down late in the
night, and slept sweetly. We arose at the dawning of the morn, and after
a good mess of buffalo-meat, with nice warm biscuits, we went out in the
soft morning air. As we stood upon the hill-side at the river’s edge,
the zephyrs fanned us like the breath of heaven; and the sun, as it
rolled from the eastern sky, appeared to us more majestic than ever
before. Away down the valley we could see the buffaloes feeding upon the
rich pasture; and upon the brow of a hill to the south were two large
wolves, feasting upon an antelope they had just killed. In our native
Ohio we had seen the buffalo behind the strong high fence, and the wolf
in the iron cage; but here they were with their wild neighbors in the
garden of nature, ruminating in the free, open air. The scene was
_striking_; and it was all _natural_; the hand of man had not figured
there; and though far from civilization, we felt happy, and the Cimaron
waters appeared to smile upon us as they hurried by.
We spent a few days in exploring the surrounding country, and went far
up and down the river acquainting ourselves with the hills and valleys.
The _hide_ season was now here, and being well _prepared_, we expected
to take many a pelt, and have lots of sport. We had prepared ourselves
with a great many little pegs, and with these we pinned to the ground,
flesh side up, the hides that we gathered, until the hill-side in front
of our door was pretty well covered. Every now and then we met a
_brother hunter_ upon the plains; and with him we had many a pleasant
chat, and learned the history of the country from the present back
through many years. It is interesting to listen to the tales of the old
hunters who roamed the wild prairie thirty years ago, and who have ever
since neighbored with wild animals and savages, and reaped a livelihood
from the western wilds. They say that many years ago, when they first
came to the country, if a person were upon a slight elevation when the
herd was passing by, the valley would be covered with buffaloes as far
as the eye could reach, rendering the whole country a dark, moving mass,
and compelling the Forty-niners _en-route_ for California to stop over
for whole days, until the herd crossed over. Though there were small
herds of _thirty_ and _forty_ moving in _all directions_, the _main
herd_ moved in a body, and unlike cattle, kept closely together. Before
the time of _railroads_ through the West, they used to hunt all winter
and dry the hides, and haul them east in the _spring_, making large
profits. But when the Kansas Pacific, Union Pacific, and Atchison,
Topeka & Santa Fe railroads were built, the buffaloes were very plenty;
and meat being in good demand, and having an outlet for the shipment of
hides, great numbers of hunters swarmed the prairie, and the slaughter
of the animal was wholesale. Good robe hides then being worth four and
five dollars, the animal, rich and delicious, and for which many a poor
eastern family would be thankful, after being stripped of its
winding-sheet, was left to decay in the sun or be devoured by the
howling wolves. They say they used to lie down upon the prairie and
_shoot_; and the longer they shot, and the more they killed, the thicker
they came around; and they often found it necessary to get out of the
way to keep themselves from being trampled into the earth. In this way
they were slaughtered by thousands. The number became rapidly reduced,
until to-day the main herd consists of but a few thousands, and small
herds of twenty and thirty wander here and there, reclining upon the
soft plain and nipping the rich grass from the hills that once echoed
the bellowings of the innumerable herd. The great numbers spoken of
somewhat startled us, and sounded more like a _fable_ than a _pleasant
story_; but when we traveled over the plains and saw sometimes fifty and
sixty skeletons almost on a _heap_, and whole _acres_ almost _covered_
with _bones_ whitening in the sun, and sometimes being able to jump from
one buffalo-head to another for several hundred yards (especially in
the Republican Valley), we were persuaded to believe what we were told.
Upon reflection, it seems a _sin_ that these animals were shot down in
such great numbers only for the _pelts_, and so much of the best meat in
the world left to waste in the sun or be devoured by the wild,
carnivorous animals of the prairie; but the _truth is_, no cattle or
sheep could be raised or any use made of the country so long as these
mighty herds continued to trample it. The hunters say they used to start
out in the morning without a cent in their pockets, and at night they
would often have pelts enough, together with the meat they found sale
for along the railroad, to pay them seventy-five or one hundred dollars,
which they would gamble and drink away before morning, very often. “Ah!”
say they, “we have been here _many years_, and have spent many a fortune
in the vile dens so numerous in the West; but the great herds have now
almost faded away, and instead of having plenty, as we might have, we
are now poor men, wandering over the plains for a living.”
It used to be very dangerous to be in the way when they were upon a
stampede, for they were as irresistible as the ocean wave; and it is
said that more than one outfit, _horses and all_, has been trod into
the dust by the trampling thousands that made the valleys roar. But
stampedes have for some years ceased to be very dangerous, and
buffalo-hunting has for some time been a _science_, and is practiced as
follows: A person or company, with teams, saddle-ponies, ammunition, and
provisions, go out to where the buffaloes range, and there make a
head-quarter camp,--usually a dug-out, for timber is scarce,--and there
unload. When the herd is killed and frightened away from camp, one or
two stay in camp to watch over what is left there and the rest start out
with wagons in the following order: The hunter has a big
cartridge-rifle,--usually a one-hundred-grain Sharpe, or one hundred and
twenty grains, which is called a big fifty,--fifty caliber. These guns
weigh from twelve to eighteen pounds, and carry from a mile and a half
to two miles. He also has a large belt, with loops to hold forty or
fifty cartridges, and a good knife. One man usually does the _shooting_
for the outfit, though two sometimes go together. The skinner or
skinners, with ammunition, beds, and provisions, follow with the wagon
or wagons, and keep just in sight of the hunter. When he sees a herd he
crawls and creeps until he is within shooting distance, and fires down
the leader. The herd will not fly without a leader; and until they have
a new one selected he is again _ready_, and downs _him_. Watching his
chances, and being a _good shot_, in this way he sometimes succeeds in
getting down fifty or sixty buffaloes. One man said he one time shot
down one hundred and sixty in one stand. When the blood begins to flow
freely the herd becomes very much _excited_; and while horning the
wounded ones and pawing in the blood, with tails lashing the air, and
almost deafening you with their bellowing, it is enough to terrify an
inexperienced hunter. And any person who has _been there_, I assure you,
will make himself just as scarce as possible on such occasions; for a
wounded buffalo is very dangerous. When the herd leaves,--from the
hunter ceasing to fire, or making a mis-shot,--the _skinners_ come up
and go to work, and the hunter follows up the herd on foot and takes
down one here and there, and tries for another stand, which depends very
much upon his skill as a hunter. Sometimes this chase is kept up all
day, and the hunter has no success until about _sundown_, when they
have become somewhat used to the crack of the rifle, and being tired and
hungry they slacken up; and while fighting the wounded ones the hunter
gets in a few good shots, and right there loads his wagons. When the
wagons are well loaded they start for camp to unload the hides and
stretch them out to dry. Several hundred hides being sometimes stretched
out at one camp, it presents quite an attractive scene. When the hides
are _dry_, they are put in piles of ten apiece, and staked and tied
down. In the spring they are hauled to market.
Sometimes the meat is jerked, which is done as follows: The hump,
shoulder-clods, and saddles are the only parts used. This meat is cut in
strips as thick as a man’s wrist, and after being seasoned is hung upon
wooden racks in the sun, and a slow fire built under it to smoke; and in
about two days it is jerked. This meat can be taken to the _mountains_
in the spring and sold readily for fifteen and twenty cents per pound.
This is the way it is done; and when the herd changes its range, as it
often does, you must then pull up and follow, and again locate; though
you can hunt from one hundred to one hundred and fifty miles around one
camp.
There is now another hunt; and that is the wolf-hunt. This is done with
strychnine. When you first come into a country (before there are so many
carcasses), just kill an antelope or buffalo, and while the meat is warm
cut out several hundred baits, an inch square, perforate them and put in
a little of the poison, and give the meat a little rubbing. Now put the
baits in a sack, and after tying one end of your picket-rope to the horn
of your saddle and the other end round a large piece of the meat, start
upon a six or eight mile circle around the carcass, dragging the fresh
meat, and dropping a bait every one hundred yards. In _some parts_ of
the plains, especially along little waters, the wolves and skunks are
very numerous; and after sunset they can be heard howling in every
direction, and they hurry to the newly-spilled blood. When they strike
the circle where the meat has been dragged they will start around upon
it, picking up the baits, and dropping at about the second. In the
morning the hunter mounts his pony and starts round his circle, skinning
the wolves and skunks, and often has a pony-load of pelts from wolves,
skunks, badgers, swifts, etc. The wolf-hides are worth two dollars and
fifty cents apiece, and the bounty is from fifty cents to five dollars
a head--according to the county. Skunks are worth forty-five cents, and
badger and swift hides are worth forty cents apiece. There is much to be
made at this business; and being well prepared for the full catalogue of
prairie sports, we cast our baits and shot our game.
We had very _comfortable quarters_ upon the Cimaron, and the game was
also plenty here. The country upon either side of the river, for a half
mile to the north and south, was very rough; and in these deep gulches
and pretty ravines many a buffalo, deer, and antelope breathed out his
last.
Just after twilight one night in December we were all in camp at
head-quarters when a great light to the north attracted our attention.
The whole northern sky suddenly turned red, and the heavens were lighted
up as with the lightning’s glare. Brighter and brighter it grew until
the sight was grand beyond all description. The very air began to turn
warm, and the gale that blew from the north brought with it great clouds
of smoke. At length the forked tongues of the flames began to dart up
from behind the
[Illustration: THE PRAIRIE FIRE.]
Bear Creek bluffs, thirty miles away, and soon the whole country, as far
as the eye could reach to the west and far to the east, was in a flame.
The grass was thick and tolerably high, and the flames rolled over the
level prairie like a tide upon the ocean and with mighty velocity. We
set fire to the grass upon the south side of the river, and with a roar
it disappeared over the hills. We then rushed our teams and wagons
across the stream upon the burned space and watched the oncome. The
thirty miles were skimmed in a short time, and buffaloes, deer,
antelopes, and wolves came in a tumultuous throng, howling and
bellowing, with the fire close in the rear. On came the conflagration,
leaping, whizzing, and roaring like thunder; and it was a sight to see
the animals plunge precipitately into the stream. Now and then an old,
shaggy wolf would be outrun by the flames, and when the _hair_ began to
singe such howling was never heard. The heat was so intense that but
_few_ animals got through the blaze alive, and _they_ were left in the
hot ashes, and came out pretty well singed and sore. The cattle of the
vicinity ran frantic in every direction, and some were suffocated. Our
rich, golden range was now blackened; and there was no pasture in the
surrounding country except the short, green grass in the valley. We were
now compelled to follow the animals to the land of pasture. The cow-men
and hunters turned out, and the fire was extinguished in the sand-hills
of New Mexico, but a few miles to the south of us. This was the first
real prairie-fire we had yet seen, and it being at night added greatly
to its splendor.
It is a penitentiary offense in that country to _willfully_ fire the
prairie, and the stock-men seldom make much court expense when the
scoundrel is found. Their proceedings are very summary, and the prisoner
is never again guilty of the same offense--in this world. The _Indians_
often do it to destroy the _pasture_ in other quarters and drive the
game to _their grounds_; and for it many a red-skin has soared to the
happy hunting-ground upon the wings of death.
It is unlawful for white men to kill more meat in the Indian Territory
than just what is needed for _immediate use_, under penalty of the
confiscation of all they have. This is watched over by the _government
authorities_ stationed there. However, the fire had not reached the
territory, and there were great herds of _buffaloes_ upon their rich
pasture; and we cautiously made this part our range.
Our first trip after the fire was to the east. So, fixing that cupboard
in the wagon, and taking enough flour for biscuits for several days, we
left Dave and John in camp, and Charles and myself wound down the green
valley for the unburned regions. In about five miles we came upon
pasture, and camped for the night upon the river-bank, full twenty-five
miles from head-quarters. This brought us about to the Kansas line. It
was a beautiful night, and almost as light as day. The wolves were so
numerous and bold that we were compelled to sleep by the fire, and about
twelve o’clock they came _into_ the very camp and tackled the big
blood-hound that we always had with the wagon. Unfortunately for _one_
of the trespassers, old Lee sunk his fangs into his neck and never
loosed his hold until he was dead. The horses were frightened _all
night_; and Charles said he expected we were just upon the spot where
the whole d----n pack slept every night. We stripped off several pelts
in the morning; and when the sun was high we started north for the
ten-mile arroyo of which we had heard old hunters speak. We had only
gone a little way when we met an old bull coming quietly down a ravine
toward the river; and after riding to the top of a hill and finding no
herd to be near, I concluded to give him a chase. I got within a quarter
of a mile of him, when he saw me and started back north. This was a sign
of a herd; and knowing that if he would reach it he would stampede the
whole herd, I rode upon him with all the speed that my mustang could
summon. He was a _perfect racer_; but in spite of his efforts I came
alongside of him, and the second ball from my Smith & Wesson stretched
him struggling upon the earth with a bullet through his lungs. When the
wagon came up we skinned him and took the meat we wanted and drove on,
expecting soon to come upon a herd. The breaks of Ten-Mile Creek began
to ruffle the smooth surface, and we saw a small bunch of buffaloes
feeding in a gulch. We came into a narrow, deep ravine, and through this
we drove the _team_, cautiously circling to the north. I crawled to the
top of the ravine among the high grass, and there, not more than three
hundred yards from me, was a herd of at least two thousand, some
ruminating, and some feeding upon a high table-land about half a mile in
diameter, and which was nearly surrounded by the deep ravine we were in.
It was now near _sundown_, and after carefully circling the herd, we
camped upon the west and to the leeward of them. After carefully
fastening the horses, and commanding _Lee_ to stay with the wagon, we
crawled up among the grass for action. They were just two hundred yards
off and we were ready, and the battle opened with the roar of two
_one-hundred-grain_ guns. My animal came to its knees with a broken
shoulder, and Charley’s dropped in its tracks without a struggle. After
a few rounds we had the blood started freely, and the cracking of the
rifles was drowned in the mighty bellowing. We crept up closer and
closer, until Charles darted behind the bull that he had first shot,
intending to use him for a rest. We were fifty yards apart, and at the
first shot that Charles took from his new fort, he was surprised to see
the bull spring to his feet and make fight. His gun was empty and the
bull was loaded; and seeing his chances in this unequal combat, he
grabbed the bull by the tail and held on for dear life. They flew around
the circle at the rate of ninety revolutions per minute; the bull
bellowing and frothing, and Charles flying around with his bare head,
calling out to me to shoot the bull. It was so darned _funny_ to see a
buffalo and a man waltz together that I could not do anything for
laughing. I knew very well that the hind end of a buffalo was not
_dangerous_, and I was just as sure that Charley would never let go of
the tail. So I stood there for several minutes enjoying the circus.
Charles drew out his big knife and tried to strike him in the heart; but
he was at the wrong end for that, and his gouging only made the bull the
more furious. At length Charley began to swing his partner a little
slower, and having worked down into the ravine, the bull spied the wagon
and made toward it with great fury. Charles called out for _Lee_, and
with a dash and a snap he had his teeth firmly fastened in the nose of
the bull. Charles was now relieved; and quickly thrusting a cartridge
into his gun he lay the bull bleeding upon the ground. All this time I
had been rolling upon the grass _laughing_; and at this moment I heard a
bellow and a loud snort, and looking around I saw a wounded buffalo
within a few jumps of me. The tail was the _other way_, and knowing my
chances to be few, I grabbed my rifle, and resting upon my knee, I let
him come so close that I could see his eyes bat,--knowing the skull to
be very thick,--and fired. The ball pierced the mighty skull, and the
blood spurted as he plunged forward dead. I looked out from behind the
hill to see if Charley was preparing to shoot me when I came in; and
when I saw him sitting upon the wagon fanning himself with his hat, I
ventured up. He commenced on me in the Colorado dialect; but he was
_puffing_ and _blowing_, and having the _advantage_ of him I did the
talking to suit myself. I told him I thought any person who had the
power to _raise the dead_ ought to be able to _kill it_ again; and
besides, he slung the bull around so darned fast that I could not shoot
with safety.
Well, the darkness began to thicken all over the country, and we
concluded not to shoot any more that night. We found an old _well_ in
the ravine, and dug it several feet deeper, but found no water. From
what we had heard _hunters_ say, we expected to find _water_ here, and
had brought none along, so that ours that night was a dry camp. We
skinned and cut up four of the buffaloes that night, and taking some of
the fresh meat we heated it up a little in the frying-pan, leaving the
juice in it; and a supper of this did _very well_, so we retired for the
night. The wolves were howling in every direction, and hurrying to the
fresh blood; and the snorting and bellowing of the buffaloes could be
heard away in the night. Up to twelve o’clock there was not a cloud in
the sky; but at that time a purple veil was drawn across the heavens
almost as quick as thought, and the wind began to blow cold. We had a
_good bed_, and placing two of our green hides upon the ground flesh
sides together, we built upon them, and in spite of the cold kept
comfortable.
Toward morning the gale _increased_, and at daylight we were in the
midst of a _blizzard_. This is a _heavy gale_ in which sharp ice, as
fine as salt, falls so thickly that you can not see two feet ahead; and
it is not safe to leave camp twenty steps without a rope around the
waist. We were in a deep ravine; and having tied the horses to the wagon
they were somewhat sheltered; then throwing a robe over the _dog_, we
lay quietly in our snug bed. The tempest raged and roared over the plain
all that day, and the snow fell, more or less, continually. Twilight
began to gather, and the storm was still howling. We had nothing to eat
that day, but we had quenched our thirst with snow and felt very well.
Morning came, and it was yet too cold to live; and the blizzard had
renewed its fury. We had brought a little _corn_ along, to feed in a
_pinch_; but this was a bigger pinch than we had _bargained for_, and
our horses began to look pretty hollow. About noon the snow ceased
falling; but the wind was as cold as ice and past all endurance. At
sundown we crawled from our retreat, and found the snow a foot in depth
over all the prairie. We shoveled it away from the side of a ledge, and
trimming down a few hackberry bushes that grew upon the side of a bluff,
we started a fire. They were green, and burned very _poorly_; but the
_buffalo-chips_ were all covered, and it was the best we had. Our meat
was like stone; and for supper we chopped it off with the ax. We did not
_fry_ it much, but it was good any how. We also melted a little _snow_
for the _horses_, and after giving them the last corn we had, we crept
into bed.
In the morning the wind had lulled and a thick fog hung like night over
the face of the plain. We could not see each other fifty yards away. We
thought it necessary, under the circumstances, to make for
head-quarters, and leave to the _wolves_ the six buffaloes that we had
not _skinned_, and which were now like stones.
Having broken our compass in bed, and the two buttes in southern
Colorado--which guide the hunters and herders of the country--being
hidden in the mist, we were left with our unaided ability to steer our
way. We took the Indian way of _ranging objects_ on ahead; but the snow
was deep and the objects few, and about _nine o’clock_ we came across
the track of an outfit which, from the number of _horse-tracks_ and the
_dog’s trail_, we knew to be our own. Well, we followed it back, and
soon came into the old camp and stopped for the night.
In the morning it was clear, and the sun shone out brightly; and the
reflection almost blinded us as we went along. The team was very lank,
and worried slowly through the snow. About noon we came into the Cimaron
valley, and after watering, plodded on without unhitching. At sundown we
saw smoke coming from the hill-side away up the valley, but in spite of
our efforts it was dark when we came in. There were plenty of provisions
and lots of fuel, and we had a social that night. It took Charles a long
time to relate his experience with the _buffalo_, and the boys plagued
him a great deal about trying to kill a bull with its own tail.
The next morning the sun again arose in a cloudless sky and darted his
warm rays upon the face of the snow-covered plain, and the white veil
soon melted away. It took the horses several days to recruit, and the
short, green grass in the valley filled them out slowly. We pegged our
green hides in the sun to dry; and having a load of saddles, humps, and
tongues, we prepared to take a trip to the _Arkansas_.
One pretty morning John and myself started with the load, and left
_Dave_ and _Charles_ in camp. We stopped at Bear Creek for the night;
and directly after striking camp we had our attention attracted to a
singular-looking object upon the side of the bluff away down the creek.
We took out the glass, and it looked like a roll of buffalo-hides. After
supper we picketed the horses, and taking our rifles, we strolled down
the creek to investigate the curious object. Coming up to it we found it
to be a buffalo-hide rolled up; and peeping in at one end we saw a man.
The hide was taken from an old bull, and was almost an _inch thick_; and
being frozen, it was as much as we could do to cut him from his narrow
prison-walls. He was a _middle-aged_ man, and was almost exhausted; but
we took him to the fire and gave him to eat, and then heard his story.
He said he was a cow-man from _Texas_, and had been to Granada and was
returning when he was ingulfed in a furious blizzard a few miles north
of Bear Creek. He said he had but two blankets, and having no _matches_,
he knew he must perish; and happening to see a stray _bull_ among the
hills, he rode on to him and shot him, and concluded to take the hide to
_wrap_ himself in. His horse broke loose while he was skinning the bull,
and he was left alone; so, spreading the hide upon the ground, fur side
down, he spread the two blankets upon it, and then lay himself upon them
and rolled up tightly. The green hide _froze_, and he was as securely
incased as though he were within a steel boiler. He had been there _five
days_; and being behind the bluff the sun had not reached and softened
the hide. He said he had kept _comfortable_, with the exception of his
_feet_, and with them he had suffered a great deal. Upon investigation,
they were both found to be _frozen_; and we took him to Las Animas to
the _doctor_, who amputated them both at the instep. He often said that
a man without toes was better than _no man_, that he surely would have
perished had he not captured the buffalo, and that, if we had not found
him, a few days later the hide would have been his grave.
We found ready sale for our meat, and were soon steering again for the
Cimaron. We came across _several_ outfits, each of which had been more
or less frozen in the late blizzard. Some had lost fingers, and others
toes; and we heard of one _whole outfit of three men_, north of the
Arkansas, freezing to death. _We_ were not in the _least_ injured, and
we congratulated ourselves upon our being prepared with a _good bed_.
We came in sight of camp about _sundown_, and riding ahead and seeing no
one about the camp, I concluded to _try_ the boys; so, riding up over
the hill, I came down upon the dug-out with a _whoop_, and fired several
shots from my six-shooter as I circled to the east, and lying flat upon
the pony I shot down a ravine just in front of the dug-out, my back
being all that could be seen. Whiz! went a bullet just over my
_backbone_; and I was satisfied that the boys were not _asleep_, and
that they could _shoot_ pretty well too. So I dismounted at a place in
the gulch where my horse was hidden, and taking a white handkerchief I
raised it to view to try the boys; but white flag or no white flag, the
two old black gun-barrels lay up alongside of the cave door and there
was no such thing as a _flag of truce_ taking them down. I was a hundred
yards off, and I swear I was afraid to put up my head to make myself
known. At length they saw the _team_ coming, and knowing my
_disposition_, they then mistrusted that it was me in the ravine. When I
was sure that the boys knew who I _was_, I mounted my poney and rode
into camp. The boys acknowledged that I had completely _deceived_ them,
and that they took me for an _Indian_ riding down there to draw them
out, and then a whole band would fire upon them from every hill. Dave
said he had done his finest to hit me on the wing, but he could see
nothing but my _back_, and that went down the ravine as swift as a cork
over the cataract of Niagara, and he supposed he shot wild. I told him
that he did very well, and I would not like him to do better upon like
occasions. Charley said he would like to have cut a _suspender_ off
anyhow, just to give me some caution.
We hunted for many miles around, including north-eastern New Mexico and
the “pan-handle” of Texas. We had the hill-side covered with hides for
some distance; and game becoming scarce, we concluded to pile up our
hides and load up our outfit and start for other quarters. We followed
the Cimaron down into _Kansas_; and just before we went into the
_territory_ we came on to a large herd of buffaloes, and killed enough
to load our wagon with _hides_, leaving the rich, delicious meat to the
wolves. We followed the river into the territory, and one evening a
government officer with three men came out from Salt Springs to our
camp; for we had been reported killing buffaloes in the territory. The
officer rode up insultingly, and without any questions began to abuse us
and call us _trespassers_ and _thieves_, and said he had a great mind to
upset the wagon and burn every hide we had. We told him we had not
killed the buffaloes in the _territory_. But he continued his abuse; and
thinking it about _our time_ to talk, and being four against four, we
told him we had _enough talk_ now, and we wanted to see him burn the
hides. We were well prepared; and seeing his position, he rode off with
his men--I suppose partially convinced that a star upon the breast of an
abusive scoundrel does not enable him to ride over honest men.
It was now getting late in the season, and we concluded to haul our
hides to market and travel over the south during the summer. We left the
outfit at the _dug-out_, and two stayed with it and the other two hauled
hides. We took up two fall loads, and had as many more as we could haul
with the outfit the third trip. We shipped them to Kansas City and sold
them well, and struck a rich dividend. We camped up and down the
Arkansas, fishing and occasionally shooting a deer among the brush along
the river, and spending some time moving in the refined society of the
valley, and now and then staying a little late conversing with the
cultured daughters of the ranchmen. We spent many pleasant days and
evenings thus; and after trimming up the outfit carefully, and laying in
a good supply of ammunition and such eatables as we supposed would be
needed on our trip, we were ready to start again for southern sights.