Vale University Library

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YALE UNIVERSITY
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BOOKS BY GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL
Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
The Wolf Hunters. Illustrated.
i2mo,  net $1.35
Blackfeet Indian Stories. Illustrated.
i2mo,  net $1.00
Beyond the Old Frontier. Illustrated.
umo,  net $1.50
Trails of the Pathfinders. Illustrated.
i2mo,  net $1.50
Blackfoot Lodge Tales. The Story
of a Prairie People. i2mo, net $1.75
Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk Tales.
Illustrated. i2mo, . . . net $1.75

THE WOLF HUNTERS

'Then come a puff of smoke and the prairie was afire." [Page 237]

THE
WOLF HUNTERS
A STORY OF THE BUFFALO PLAINS

EDITED AND ARRANGED
FROM THE MANUSCRIPT ACCOUNT OF
ROBERT M. PECK

BY
GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL

Illustrated

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK:::::::::::::::::::::i9i4

Copyright, igi4, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Published September, igi4

INTRODUCTORY NOTE
In the days of the buffalo, wolfing was a rec
ognized industry. Small parties — two or more
men — with team, saddle-horses, and camp outfit,
used to go out into the buffalo range, establish a
camp, and spend the winter there, killing buffalo
and poisoning the carcasses with strychnine. The
wolves that fed on these carcasses died about
them, and their pelts were taken to camp, to be
stretched and dried.
The work was hard and not without its dan
gers. Storms were frequent, and often very se
vere, and the Indians were bitterly opposed to
the operations of these wolf hunters, who killed
great numbers of buffalo for wolf baits, as well as
elk, antelope, deer, and other smaller animals.
On the other hand, in winter the Indians did not
usually travel about very much.
The following pages describe the adventures of
Mr. Peck and two companions — all recently dis
charged soldiers — during the winter of 1861-
1862. Robert Morris Peck was born in Washington,
Mason County, Kentucky, October 30, 1839. At
the age of seventeen — November, 1856 — he en-
v

INTRODUCTORY NOTE
listed in the First Cavalry, and the following year
was sent to Fort Leavenworth and took part in
the Cheyenne and other campaigns. He was dis
charged in 1861, and not very long afterward
became a wagon-master, in which capacity he
served in the army of the frontier. Mr. Peck
died March 25, 1909.
G. B. G.
July, 1914.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Tom's Plan  i
II. We Get Our Discharges .... 7
III. We Find an Outfit  12
IV. Back to the Buffalo Range . . 24
V. We Meet Doubtful Characters . 42
VI. Standing Off the Jayhawkers . . 51
VII. Jack Takes a Prisoner  63
VIII. Tom's Strategy  72
IX. Buffalo Near the Big Bend . . 87
X. Why Satank Killed Peacock . . 96
XL We Reach Fort Larned . . . . in
XII. Our Camp on Walnut Creek . . 122
XIII. Killed by the Indians  150
XIV. Satanta's Story  159
XV. Wild Bill Visits Us  171
vii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
XVI.

Tom Locks the Stable Door

PAGE I84

XVII.

Volunteer Troops at Larned

• 195

XVIII.

Bill Returns from His Scout .

206

XIX.

A Night in the Kiowa Camp

. 2l6

XX.

We Trade with Indians . . .

226

XXI.

Jack's Close Call 

235

XXII.

Satank Arrives 

243

XXIII.

Surrounded by Kiowas ....

255

XXIV.

Captain Saunders' Fight . . .

266

XXV.

We Part from Friends ....

277

XXVI.

Back to God's Country . . . .

297

Vlll

ILLUSTRATIONS
'Then come a puff of smoke and the prairie
was afire"  Frontispiece Facing page
'Five minutes to get out of range! Now,
git!"  60
'It must have been the work of Injuns" . . 154
'Go to Tom"  250

THE WOLF HUNTERS
CHAPTER I
TOM'S PLAN
"TXT'ELL, men, what will we do?" said Jack
Flanagan. "We can re-enlist or go back
to the States and each hunt his job, or we can try
to get something to do where we can all three
stick together."
"Let's stick together if we can," said I.
"Now, hold on, men," advised Tom Vance,
"until you hear what I have got to say. I have
been thinking a lot about what we'd best do, and
last night I think it come to me."
"Tell us what it is, Tom," said Jack eagerly.
'"Tis yourself has the wise head on his shoulders,
and I'd like to hear your plan."
We were three soldiers of Company K, First
Cavalry, whose terms of service were about to
expire, and we looked forward with much eager
ness to the time when we should again be our own
masters instead of being subject to military dis
cipline. Of course, we could re-enlist for another
five years, and the government offered induce-

THE WOLF HUNTERS
ments to do this. A soldier who re-enlisted within
three months before the expiration of his term
received a discharge three months in advance of
its expiration, with furlough for that length of
time and three months' extra pay. At the expi
ration of that time he was expected to report to
his company or, if unable to do that, at the near
est military post. Failing to report for duty on
time, he was regarded as a deserter. Tom Vance
had served for three enlistments and Jack Flanagan
for two. I was at the end of my first five years.
We were at Fort Wise,* Colorado Territory, and
it was the summer of 1861. The Civil War was
just beginning.
"What is your plan, Tom?" Jack repeated.
"Well, men," said Tom, "as I say, I thought
of it last night, and I believe that we can spend
the winter somewhere out here in the buffalo
range hunting wolves and can make a good stake
doing that. We all know something about the
plains and something about wolf hunting, and if
we can raise the money needed for the outfit, I
believe we can make a go of it. The Indians are
pretty quiet now, but, of course, we know some
thing about Indians and know that they've got
to be looked out for all the time, but I guess we'll
be safe enough. What do you think of it?"
" Afterward Fort Lyon, on the Arkansas River, and later aban
doned. The site is within a few miles of the present town of Lamar,
Colorado.

TOM'S PLAN
"It's sure a fine plan," said Jack, "if we can
carry it through ; but how much money is it going
to take?"
"It's a great scheme, Tom," I added, "and it
seems to me there ought to be money in it; but
have we the capital?"
"We'll have some money," said Tom, "but, of
course, we've got to sail pretty close to the wind
and to cut our coat according to our cloth. When
we get our 'final statements' cashed we ought
to have about two hundred dollars apiece. This
ought to buy us a good team of ponies and camp
outfit, with supplies for the winter. At outfitting
towns like Saint Joe, Leavenworth, Kansas City,
or Independence there are chances to buy a good
team and camp outfit in the fall from people who
are coming in from buffalo hunting, and get them
cheap, too.
"We ought to go to one of those towns, look out
for such hunting parties, and, if we can find what
we want cheap, take it in; then we can strike out
for the plains by the old Santa Fe road, select a
location in about the thickest of the herds, build
us a cabin or dugout, and get ready for winter."
Jack and I agreed that the plan was sound, and
Tom then asked us for any ideas or suggestions
that we might have. We both felt, however, that
his fifteen years' service had given him so much
experience that he was much more likely to think
of the necessary points than we, and we had far

THE WOLF HUNTERS
more faith in his judgment than in our own. We
asked him to go ahead and give us the further
details of his plan so far as he had thought them
out. "First," Tom said, "we must get what we abso
lutely need, and if we have any money left after
that we can buy luxuries. For grub we'd better
take about the same as government rations — flour,
bacon, beans, coffee, sugar, rice, and salt. A
Sharp's rifle and a Colt's navy apiece, with plenty
of cartridges, will be all the arms we'll want, and,
besides the clothing we already have, each man
ought to have a good suit of buckskins. These
are better than any cloth for wear and to keep off
the wind. We can make overcoats, caps, and mit
tens out of furs as soon as we take a few pelts and
dress them. Most of these things we can get here
before we are discharged. The first sergeants of
the cavalry companies often have some of these
things over and will sell them to us for very little
money." "How about tobacco and pipes?" asked Jack.
"Tobacco don't come under the head of general
supplies, and, as Peck don't use it, every man will
have to buy his own tobacco."
"How about whiskey?" asked Jack, for he had
a weakness for liquor.
Tom answered him quickly: "There'll be no
whiskey taken along if I am to have any say in
the plans for the expedition. When we leave the

TOM'S PLAN
settlements you'll have to swear off until we get
back again; and that reminds me that when we
get our 'final statements' cashed it will be a good
idea for you to turn over your money to Peck, all
except a small allowance for a spree, if you must
have one."
Jack was forced to yield to the decision of the
majority that whiskey should form no part of our
supplies. "Seems to me," I began, to change the subject,
"that we've got to decide on where we'll go.
Where do you think we'd better locate our winter
camp, Tom?"
"As to that, I haven't quite made up my mind,"
said he, "but it must be somewhere near the centre
of the buffalo range and not too far from the
Santa Fe road. Fort Larned is about the middle
of the range this season, and I've thought some of
pitching our camp on Walnut Creek, about twenty
miles north of the fort."
"It's now toward the last of August," continued
Tom, "and our time will be out in September.
We can call for our discharges now any time that
we see a chance to get transportation into the
States. It'll take us about a month to reach the
Missouri River if we go by bull train, and that'll
be about the first of October. Allowing about
ten days to fit out for the return, it'll take us the
rest of October to go back to the neighborhood
of Fort Larned. We won't want to do much wolf
5

THE WOLF HUNTERS
skinning before the middle of November, when
the winter coat begins to get good, but there'll
be plenty of work to keep us busy, building, fitting
up camp, and getting ready for the cold weather.
It won't do for us to have our camp too close to
Fort Larned or the Santa Fe road, for around
there buffalo and wolves will be scarce, but we
want to be near enough to call for our mail oc
casionally. Besides that, if Indians should be
troublesome it's a good thing to be nigh to Uncle
Sam's soldiers."
"They say," put in Jack, "that there's plenty
of otter and beaver in Walnut Creek."
"Yes," replied Tom, "we'll be apt to find some
of them, but they're nothing like as plenty as
they used to be. All those timbered creeks used
to have lots of beaver and otter in them, and
we'll find some of them, but our best hold will be
wolfskins. They are plentiest and easiest to get.
We'll take a few steel traps along to try for otter
and beaver. We'll take anything we can in the
way of fur."

CHAPTER II
WE GET OUR DISCHARGES
I ^HE next day Tom came to me looking rather
serious, and I saw that he had something on
his mind, and when he had gotten me alone he ex
plained what this was.
"I've been thinking it over, Peck," he said,
"and I've pretty near made up my mind that we'd
better drop Jack and either pick up another man
or else you and me go it without a third man. I
am afraid that Jack's fondness for liquor will get
him into trouble and so make trouble for us. I
hate to go back on him, for he's a rattlin' good
fellow when he is out of the reach of whiskey,
but, when he can get it, he's a regular drunkard."
"That's so, Tom," I answered; "but when we
get started back to the plains we'll soon have him
where he can't get whiskey, and then he'll be all
right. I think we can manage him by making
him turn over all his money except a few dollars
to you or to me, and when his money is gone we'll
see that he gets no more. If we can get him to
promise that after he gets through he will let
liquor alone, he will do it. Jack prides himself on
being a man of his word." 7

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Well," said Tom with some hesitation, "we'll
take him then, but we must have a fair and square
understanding with him and fire him if he don't
come to time and behave like a man. We can't
fool away time with a drunken man."
Besides being an all-around good fellow, Jack
had a fiddle and could play it and could also sing.
On these musical accomplishments I counted for
much enlivening of our lonely winter's work.
When spoken to about binding himself to let
whiskey alone, Jack readily promised that after
one little spree when we got our pay he would
swear off entirely till the wolf hunting trip was
over. He was willing to turn over his money to
Tom or to me when we should be paid off, reserv
ing only a few dollars for the "good time" that he
had promised himself.
We now began trading with the Indians for the
skins needed for our buckskin suits, and as we got
them we smoked them, using for this purpose a
large dry-goods box, to the bottom of which, on
the inside, we tacked the hides in place. The box
was then turned over a little smothered fire in a
hole in the ground. We found that this way of
smoking skins was an improvement on the Indian
method, smoking them more quickly and evenly
and giving them a more uniform color.
In 1861 the agency for the five tribes — Chey
ennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and Prai
rie Apaches — was at Fort Wise, and, as the time
8

WE GET OUR DISCHARGES
approached for the Indian agent to make the an
nual distribution of gifts from the government,
the tribes would come in to receive their annui
ties. Our trading with the Indians had to be done
quietly, because the post sutler had the exclusive
privilege of all Indian trade on the post reservation,
and, by order of the commanding officer, no one
else might carry on any traffic with the Indians.
From one of the cavalry first sergeants we each
bought a rifle, revolver, and some cartridges, and
such additional soldier clothing as we needed.
These purchases were, of course, illegal. It was
a serious offence for any non-commissioned officer
or soldier to sell government property. On the
other hand, it was very frequently done.
A few days later Tom came into the quarters
and gleefully exclaimed: "I've struck it. A bull
train is corralling about a mile above the post, and
the wagon-master has agreed to haul us into the
settlements. It is one of Majors & Russell's out
fits going back empty, and the wagon boss agrees
to take us and let us work our passage, for he is
shorthanded. The train will lie over here to-mor
row to get some work done, and that will give us
time to get our discharges, draw our rations, and
say good-by to the other men."
"But, Tom," said Jack, "how can we work our
passage in a bull train when ne'er a one of us knows
anything about driving bulls?"
"I told the wagon boss that," answered Tom,

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"and he said it made no difference, that he had
other work that any greenhorn could do — night
herding or driving the cavvy-yard. We're to get
our plunder out at the side of the road as he pulls
through the post. Now, as that is settled, let's
put onourbestj ackets and go over to the captain's
quarters and ask for our discharges."
"Well, Tom," said Jack, "we'll let you do the
talking for us, for likely enough the 'old man' will
give us a lot of taffy and try to persuade us to
re-enlist. You can give him our reasons for not
taking on again better than me and Peck."
Before long we had marched briskly across the
parade-ground and lined up in front of the cap
tain's door, with Tom in the post of honor on the
right. The captain opened the door and stepped
out, when we all three saluted, and as he re
turned it he asked :
"Well, men, what's wanting?"
Standing rigidly at attention, Jack and I kept
silence while Tom spoke, saying:
"We've called, sir, to see if the captain would
be so kind as to give us our discharges so we can
take advantage of the chance to go into the States
with the bull train that's camped in the bottom
yonder." "Why, yes; certainly," said the captain slowly;
"but I had hoped that you men would re-enlist
in time to get the benefit of the three months' extra
pay with furlough. You are pretty sure to re-
10

WE GET OUR DISCHARGES
enlist sooner or later, and it would be better for
you to take on in your old company. It looks as
if the war would continue for some time-yet, and,
as we will probably all be ordered into the States
soon, there will be good opportunities for well-
trained soldiers to get commissions in the volun
teers." "We're very grateful to the captain for his good
opinion, but we've concluded to go down into
the buffalo range and put in the winter skinning
wolves," said Tom. "Next summer, if we take a
notion to re-enlist, we'll hunt the old company
UP- "All right, men," said the captain, apparently
not wishing to seem unduly anxious about the mat
ter; "you may go to the first sergeant and tell him
I order your discharges and final statements made
out." Thanking him, we saluted and marched off.
The documents were made out in due course
and handed to us by the sergeant, with compli
ments on the good service we had all performed
and the expression of a hope that when we had
"blowed in our money" we would go back to
the old company. For some hours we were busy
packing up, happy in the feeling that we were
once more citizens. We spent some time shaking
hands and bidding good-by to every one, and in
some cases the partings were rather moving.

n

CHAPTER III
WE FIND AN OUTFIT
TXT'HEN the dusty bull train came rolling along
" the road past the garrison it found us wait
ing. Our property was stowed in an empty wagon,
and, again shouting good-bys to the comrades who
had come out to see us off, we began our tedious,
dusty, dirty march with the bull train.
At that time Majors & Russell, of Leavenworth,
Kansas, had the contract for transporting govern
ment supplies to all frontier posts. Mr. Majors
had the reputation of being a very religious man,
and in fitting out trains required all wagon-masters
and teamsters to sign a written contract agreeing to
use no profane language and not to gamble or to
travel on Sundays. At starting he furnished each
man with a Bible and hymn-book, and exhorted
him to read the gospel and hold religious services
on the Sabbath. This statement is regarded by
many people of the present day as an old frontier
joke, but it is actual fact.
The wagons — called prairie-schooners — were
large and heavy and usually drawn by six yoke
of oxen to the team. When outward bound they
were loaded at the rate of one thousand pounds
of freight to the yoke. Twenty-five such teams
12

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
constituted a train, in charge of a wagon-master
and assistant, who were mounted on mules. The
travel was slow, dusty, and disagreeable beyond
description. At camping time the trains corralled

^^^%,

Bull Tram corralled for camp.

across the road, a half circle on either side, leaving
the open road running through the centre of the
corral. Our route was down the Arkansas River on the
north bank, but the train itself did not go to the
water. That used for cooking and drinking was
carried along in casks, which were replenished at
every opportunity. The detail of this travel, while
interesting, cannot be given here, but on the jour-
13

THE WOLF HUNTERS
ney we learned a great deal that was absolutely
new to us.
On the first night out from Fort Wise we were
awakened by a bull-whacker, who brought to our
bed two men who had asked for us and who proved
to be deserters. We felt the sympathy for them
which the average soldier feels for a deserter, gave
them a little money and some rations, and rec
ommended them to hurry on, travelling at night
and lying hid in the daytime. They went on, as
advised. The next morning a sergeant and two privates
from Fort Wise galloped up behind us and stopped
to speak to us, asking if we had seen a couple
of deserters. We gravely told them that we had
seen no such men and suggested that they might
have gone west from Fort Wise. The sergeant
made a perfunctory search of the wagons and then
went on, to camp a little farther along and kill
time until it was necessary to return to the post.
In those days such pursuing parties often overtook
the deserters they were after, gave them part of
their rations, and sent them along on their road.
At the Big Timbers, on the Arkansas, we met
with a large band of Cheyenne Indians on the
way up to Fort Wise to receive their annuities; and
when we reached the Santa Fe road, where it
crossed the Arkansas, coming from the Cimarron
River by the sixty-mile dry stretch called the
Jornada, we saw a government six-mule train,
14

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
travelling east, just going into camp on the river
bank. Here, we thought, was an opportunity to get
along faster and travel more comfortably if we
could arrange for a transfer to the mule train.
Its days' drives were about twice as long as those
of the bull train, which seldom exceeded twelve
miles a day. We therefore sent Tom back to
the mule train, and he found in the wagon-master
of the train an old acquaintance, who cheerfully
agreed to take us on to Fort Leavenworth with
out charge. Next morning, as the mule
train passed us, we bade good^by to our kind but
dirty friends the bull-whackers and tumbled our
selves and our baggage into one of the empty
mule wagons and went on.
At the Santa Fe crossing of the Arkansas, we
had begun to see a few buffalo; and the herds grew
larger as we went on until we reached Pawnee
Fork, near Fort Larned, which seemed to be about
the centre of their range. After we passed the
fort their numbers decreased until we came to
the Little Arkansas, where we saw the last of
them. Our old company, K of the First Cavalry,
had built the first quarters at Larned, in 1859.
When we passed it, in the autumn of 1861, it was
garrisoned by two companies of the Second In
fantry and one of the Second Dragoons and was
commanded by Major Julius Hayden, Second
Infantry. 15

THE WOLF HUNTERS
After joining the mule train Tom, Jack, and I
made it our business to keep the outfit supplied
with fresh meat while passing through the buffalo
range. We also killed numbers of ducks, geese,
brant, and sand-hill cranes, borrowing the wagon-

h ii hhtiitititihtihti
Mule Train camped in parlc
Wkgon Master's Ten t^sd
I fes -Wage/.

master's shotgun for bird hunting. This sug
gested to us that a good shotgun would be a useful
part of our equipment for the winter's work.
In due time we reached Fort Leavenworth, re
ceived our pay from our old paymaster, Major
H. E. Hunt, and then went down to Leavenworth
City, two and a half miles from the fort. We
stopped at a boarding-house kept by an old dra
goon who had a wide acquaintance among citi
zens and soldiers and who could and would be
useful to us in getting together our outfit.
16

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
The war between the States was now in full
blast, and blue cloth and brass buttons were seen
everywhere. Several of our former comrades had
enlisted in the volunteers, and some had obtained
commissions. According to our previous understanding, I had
been chosen as treasurer and bookkeeper for the
expedition and began to keep accounts of receipts
and expenses. Each man turned into a common
fund, to be used in the purchase of an outfit,
one hundred and fifty dollars — making a common
capital of four hundred and fifty dollars. The bal
ance of each man's money was left in his hands to
use as he saw fit, except in the case of Jack, whom
we had persuaded to turn over all his money to
me. Jack begged ten dollars from me to go off
and have a good time, and Tom advised me to
give it; but he warned Jack that he would prob
ably bring up in the lockup and declared that if
he did so he should stay there until we were ready
to start. Both Jack and I had so much respect
for Tom's greater age and experience that we never
thought of taking offence at his scoldings.
For two days Tom and I were busy going about
from one stable to another, hoping to find a ready-
made camp outfit, team, and wagon offered for sale
cheap. Nothing like that had as yet been seen.
We had heard nothing of our Irishman, and I was
getting a little uneasy about him and asked Tom
if I should not go to the police station, pay Jack's
17

THE WOLF HUNTERS
fine, and get him out. Tom agreed, and expressed
some sorrowful reflections on the blemish to Jack's
character which his love for liquor implied.
As expected, Jack was found behind the bars.
He had evidently received a terrible beating, part
of it from a gang of toughs who had tried to rob
him, and the remainder from the police who had
finally, with much difficulty, arrested him. I was
obliged to pay a fine of twenty dollars to get Jack
out. A further search of Leavenworth City failed to
show us what we wanted, and we were getting dis
couraged. To buy a team and a camp equipment
at the prices that were asked would take all the
money we could raise and still leave us poorly pre
pared for our expedition. We were considering
the possibility of doing better in Kansas City and
Saint Joe and had half decided to go to those places
when one day Jack came rushing in, exclaiming:
"I've struck it. I've struck just the rig that
we want. A lot of fine-haired fellows from the
East have just got in from a buffalo hunt with a
splendid outfit they want to sell. They will take
anything they can get for it, because they are
going back East on the railroad and are in a hurry
to get off; and who do you think I found in charge
of the outfit but Wild Bill Hickock?* Bill told
* James Butler Hickock, better known as Wild Bill, was a famous
character in Kansas and the West from i860 to 1876. In 1861 he
was sometimes called "Indian Bill" or "Buckskin Bill," but the
18

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
me he'd been hired by three fellows to buy the
team and rig up the whole equipment for them, and
he'd been their guide. He says it's a dandy out
fit. He don't know how much they'll ask for it,
but says they don't care for money and will give
it away if they can't sell it. They've left Bill to
get rid of it. It's over yonder on Shawnee Street,
and we'd better look it over and see what sort of
a bargain we can make."
nickname "Wild Bill" soon became so firmly fixed that few people
knew his real name.
Wild Bill was the son of New England parents, born in Vermont,
who moved to New York immediately after their marriage, which
occurred in 1829 or 1830. From New York they moved to Illinois,
settling first in Putnam County and later in La Salle County. Here,
near the village of Troy Grove, the son, James Butler, was born, on
May 27, 1837.
He went West when only a boy and for some time served as scout
at different military posts and afterward as marshal and sheriff in
various new towns in Kansas. He was a man of unflinching courage
and a natural shot with the pistol and had many extraordinary ad
ventures, in all of which he was successful. A remarkable incident
told of him was the killing of Jake McCandless and his gang of twelve
men in a hand-to-hand fight near Fort Hayes, Kansas.
In 1873 or 1874, with William F. Cody and John Omohundro and
a number of Pawnee Indians, he appeared for a short time on the
stage in one of Ned Buntline's dramas of the plains, but his career
as an actor was brief.
In March, 1876, Wild Bill was married to Mrs. Agnes Thatcher
Lake and that summer went to the Black Hills, where he prospected.
Here, in Deadwood, South Dakota, August 2, 1876, he was murdered,
while playing cards, by Jack McCall, who walked up behind him and
shot him in the back of the head. McCall was tried at Deadwood
and acquitted. Subsequently he was rearrested by Colonel N. J.
O'Brien, then sheriff of Cheyenne, Wyoming, and was taken to
Dakota, tried, convicted, and executed during February, 1877.
Wild Bill was in no sense a desperado. He was a mild-mannered,
pleasant man who avoided trouble when it was possible, but when
trouble came he met it with a strong heart.
19

THE WOLF HUNTERS
By this time we were all heading for Jim Brown's
livery stable. There we found the wagon in the
back lot, and the team, a good pair of mules, in
the barn. When we had looked over the well ap
pointed rig and made a rough estimate of its prob
able value we began to fear that the owners would
ask more than we could pay for it. Wild Bill was
absent. I asked: "What do you think of the outfit,
Tom?" "It's one of the best camp equipments I ever
saw," replied Tom, "but I am afraid it's too rich
for our blood. Those mules and harness alone
would be cheap at two hundred and fifty dollars.
The wagon is easy worth another hundred dollars,
and there is no telling what the camp outfit cost.
They must have let Bill fit things up to his own
notion, and Bill never did know the value of
money. It may be, as Bill said, that they don't
expect much for it and they'll let us have it cheap
as dirt. We'd better be quick, if we can, before
some one else snaps it up."
"Here comes Wild Bill himself!" exclaimed
Jack; and sure enough, that first of frontier scouts,
in beaded buckskins and with his long, tawny hair
hanging down his back, came striding through the
barn to meet us. Bill confirmed what Jack had
told us, and said that as these young men seemed
to have more money than they knew what to do
with he had rigged up as good an outfit as he knew
20

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
how. He continued: "The wagons, mules, har
ness, camp outfit, and some grub left over is for
sale, but their riding horses are not for sale. They
are to be shipped on tfie cars back to New York.
They've got a couple of pretty fair broncos which
they got here at starting, and they'll sell you them,
or throw them in for good measure. What will
you give me for the whole lot ? "
Tom asked if he was willing to let us unload the
wagon and look at its contents, to which Bill as
sented. We found it an extraordinarily complete
camp outfit, with many duplicate parts for the
wagon, a Sibley tent, a sheet-iron cook-stove, a
mess-chest, and a complete mess-kit, or cooking
outfit. There was a large amount of provisions left
over. The wagon and the animals were good and
the broncos had saddles and bridles.
While we were unpacking the wagon Bill told
us something about the trip, which, from the point
of view of the hunters, had been very successful,
though commonplace enough as Bill saw it. When
the examination was completed Bill asked : "What
do you think of the outfit, Tom, and what will
you give me for the whole caboodle?"
"It's a good rig, and no mistake," replied Tom
with a seemingly hopeless sigh, "but, Bill, I am
afraid we haven't money enough to buy it. The
outfit was all right for your purposes, but we'll
have to buy a lot more things and must have
some money left after buying a team and camp
21

THE WOLF HUNTERS
outfit. To buy your outfit would clean us
out. "Well," said Bill, "make a bid of what you can
afford to give, not what it's worth. They do not
expect to get what it's worth."
"It sounds like a mighty small price, Bill, and
I'm ashamed to make you the offer," said Tom
hesitatingly, "but two hundred dollars is as much
as we can afford to give and still buy our other
truck. Would your men consider such a bid as
that?" "Boys, that does seem like giving the outfit
away, and until I see my men I won't say whether
they'll take it or not, but I'll talk for you a little
and help you out all I can. They told me to sell
the rig for whatever I could get, and I'll tell
them that two hundred dollars is the best offer I
have had — it's the only one; if they say it's a go
the outfit is yours."
As we stood on a corner near the levee awaiting
Bill's return we heard the long, hoarse whistle of
a steamboat, and saw one approaching from down
the river, though still some distance away. A
little later Bill came hurrying out of the hotel
and gladdened our hearts by telling us that our
offer had been accepted. His men were to take
the approaching steamer to Saint Joe, and he
must hurry back to Brown's stable and help get
their fine hunting-horses aboard the boat.
I counted him out the two hundred dollars,
22

WE FIND AN OUTFIT
which he stuffed in his pocket without recounting.
We had bought for two hundred dollars an outfit
worth at least five hundred dollars.
We soon had the six fine horses on board the
boat. Bill went up to the cabin to turn over the
money we had paid him. Soon the steamer's big
bell clanged, and just as the deck-hands were
about to pull in the gangplank, Bill came run
ning out and turned and waved good-by to his
employers, who stood on the hurricane-deck.
In the autumn of 1861 there was no railroad in
Kansas, and the nearest point to reach the cars
going east from Leavenworth would have been
Weston, six or eight miles above, on the Missouri
side of the river. The railroad from Saint Joseph
east was patrolled by Union soldiers, to protect
the bridges and keep it open for travel.

23

CHAPTER IV
BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
AS we started back up-town Bill exclaimed
¦^ ^- gleefully:
"Well, boys, what do you think? When I
offered them fellows the money you paid me for
the outfit they would not take a dollar of it, but
told me to keep it for an advance payment — a
sort of retaining fee — for my services next sea
son. They're coming out again next spring with
a bigger party and made me promise to meet
them here and go with them."
After Bill left us Tom said: "Bill never did
know the value of money. He could just as well
as not have had the whole outfit that he sold us
or, if he didn't want to keep it, could have sold
it for twice what we paid him for it. But he's a
free-hearted, generous fellow and never thought
of it. He's brave as a lion; never was known to
do a mean or cowardly trick; a dead shot. I am
afraid, though, that he will die with his boots on,
and die young, too."
When we got back to the stable we found Jim
Brown, the proprietor, there, and Tom told him
that we had bought the wagon, mules, broncos,
and so forth, and would pay his charges before
24

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
taking them away, as soon as Wild Bill came
around to confirm the sale.
"Now, men," said the veteran, when we reached
our boarding-house, "we're beginnin' to see our
way toward gettin' out of this town, an' the
sooner the better, I say; but we've got to do some
more plannin'. I'll give you my plans, an' if you
can suggest better ways, all right. To-morrow
mornin' we'll pay our bills, an' then we'll hitch
up an' pull out onto that open ground out t'other
side of Broadway and camp there an' go to
work gettin' ready to leave here. In camp we
can overhaul the outfit an' see just exactly what
more we need."
"Nothing could be better," chipped in Jack.
"Same here," I added. "Now tell us what to
do to get ready for travelling?"
"Hold on," said Tom, "I've got another sug
gestion to offer. We're going to have a heap
heavier load than them hunters had, an' I'm in
favor of gettin' a pair of lead harness an' spread
ers an' putting them broncos on for leaders an'
work four going out. We'll want to take about
five months' supplies for ourselves an' what grain
we can haul to help our animals through the win
ter, an' all that will make too much of a load for
the mules alone. We can't afford to feed our
stock full rations of grain, but they ought to have
some to help 'em through the worst weather an'
keep 'em from gettin' too poor."
25

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"That's a good idea; but what if the mustangs
won't work?" suggested Jack. "It's a common
trick with their sort to balk in harness, though
they may be good under the saddle."
"I know that," replied Tom, "an' so we want
that question settled right here. Ef one or both
of 'em refuses to pull we'll trade 'em off for some
thing that'll work."
On going over to the stable next morning before
breakfast to give the team a rubbing down, I
found Jack there ahead of me, hard at work with
currycomb and horse brush, grooming the stock.
Brown told us that Bill had called and said he
should let us have the outfit when we came for it.
After breakfast, while Tom went down street
to a second-hand store and bought lead harness
and spreaders for the mustangs, Jack and I har
nessed the mules and put all our belongings into
the wagon. We were delighted to find that the
broncos when hitched up walked away like old
work horses, which they evidently were.
Moving out Shawnee Street, beyond Broadway,
where there was open ground for camping, we
made camp near a little creek and, after unloading
the wagon, gave everything a general overhauling
to determine what more we needed to fully equip
us for the trip.
We had noticed a nice-looking black shepherd
dog around Brown's stable that we had supposed
belonged to Brown; but now discovered that it
26

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
was the property of Wild Bill. The dog seemed
to be very intelligent and his owner prized him
highly. After establishing our camp our commander, old
Tom, gave his orders, as occasion suggested, and
Jack and I promptly executed them.
"One of us must always be in camp," said the
old man, "for we don't know what prowler might
come along an' steal somethin' if we ain't here
to watch things. Now, for to-day, I'll be camp
guard while you youngsters do the foraging.
First thing, Jack, you an' Peck light out an' hunt
up some wood to cook with."
As the camp-stove would be so much handier
and more economical of fuel than an open fire, we
had taken it out of the wagon and placed it on the
ground, with the mess-chest near by — just behind
the wagon — and, after pitching the tent, moved
the stove inside.
Jack and I skirmished along the creek, and each
gathered an armful of wood which we broke up
into stove lengths, while Tom busied himself
overhauling the mess-chest and cooking utensils.
When we had finished our job Tom gave another
order: "Now, while you're restin' Jack, you take the
two mules, an', Peck, you take the two broncos,
an' go back up the street to that blacksmith shop
just this side of the Mansion House an' git 'em
shod all 'round. That'll take about all forenoon.
27

THE WOLF HUNTERS
An' while the blacksmith is workin' on 'em one
of you can stay there an' the other can go to a
meat market an' git a piece of fresh meat an'
bring it out to camp right away so that I can put
it on to cook for dinner. While you're gettin' the
meat, bring a loaf or two of soft bread, too. We've
got plenty of hardtack in the wagon, but we'd
better use baker's bread while we're in reach of it
an' save the hardtack to use on the road, in
camps where fuel is scarce."
Leaving Jack at the blacksmith's shop to attend
to the shoeing of the team, I carried out Tom's
various instructions.
While a kettle of bean soup was boiling Tom
was busy rearranging things in the mess-chest and
wagon. Fearing that he might neglect the soup
and let it scorch, I asked :
"Tom, is there any danger of the beans stick
ing to the bottom of the camp-kettle and burn-
ing?" "What do you take me for, young fellow?" he
retorted indignantly. "Do you s'pose I've been
a-cookin' an' eatin' Uncle Sam's beans all these
years an' ain't learnt how to cook bean soup with
out burnin' it? Ef that soup scorches I'll agree
to eat the whole mess."
"Of course you know how to cook 'em," I said
apologetically, "but I noticed the beans are get
tin' soft and thought maybe while you was busy
at something else they might get burnt."
28

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
"Ain't you never learnt how to keep beans
from stickin' to the bottom of the camp-kettle?"
"No, except to keep stirring them," I replied.
"Well, I didn't think you'd a-got through five
years of soldierin' on the plains without learnin'
how to keep beans from burning. Now, I'll tell
you of a trick that's worth a dozen of stirrin' 'em
when you've got somethin' else to do besides
standin' by the kettle an' watchin' 'em. When
your beans begin to git soft just drop two or three
metal spoons into the camp-kettle, then go on
about your business, an' long as they don't bile
dry they won't burn. You savvy the philosophy
of it?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, it's just this: the heat keeps the spoons
a-dancin' around in the bottom of the kettle, an'
that keeps the beans from settlin' an' burning.
Savvy? Easy as rollin' off a log when it's ex
plained to you, ain't it?"
After getting back to camp with the mules and
broncos newly shod, we had just taken our seats
around our mess-box table when who should ride
up but Wild Bill. He had heard from Brown of
our move and came out to see how we were fixed.
As he reined up near us Jack saluted him with :
"Get down, Bill, an' hitch your hoss an' watch
me eat."
"Not by a durned sight, Jack; I can do a heap
better than that," replied the scout, too familiar
29

THE WOLF HUNTERS
with the rough hospitality of the frontier to wait
for a more formal invitation; "but if you've got
time to watch me eat I'll show you how to do it."
He dismounted, tied his horse to the wagon,
turned up a water bucket for a seat, and sat down
to dinner with us. "The smell of that bean soup
catches me."
As a surprise, when we had nearly finished Tom
went to the oven and brought out a couple of nice
hot pies.
"What a blessin' it is, sure," said Jack, "to
have somethin' to cook an' somebody that knows
how to cook it!"
"Well," replied Tom, "it's better than having a
surplus of cooks an' no rations — a state of affairs
we all know something about."
"I was just a-goin' to remark," added Bill,
"that I see you've got a good cook in the outfit, an'
that's no small help. I always knew Tom was a
first-class soldier, an' now I've found out another
of his accomplishments. Boys, I expect to be out
to Fort Larned before long, an' if I ever strike
your trail out in that neighborhood I'll sure
foller it up an' invite myself to take a square meal
with you once in a while."
"Well, I'll tell ye right now, Bill, you'll always
be welcome," said Jack, while Tom and I added:
"Second the motion."
"My special errand out here," said Bill as he
unhitched his horse and prepared to mount, "was
30

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
to tell you that when you get ready to lay in your
supplies for the trip I think you can do better
to buy 'em of Tom Carney* than anywhere else
in town. There's where I bought the truck for
our trip, an' I found his prices reasonable, an'
everything was satisfactory an' packed in good
shape. Tom's accommodatin', an' reliable, and
an all-round good fellow to trade with."
While standing by his horse Bill's dog had taken
post in front of him and by wagging his tail and
looking up at his master was trying to attract his
notice, seeing which the scout stooped down and
began talking to his canine friend and patting him
affectionately, which seemed to put the dog in an
ecstasy of delight.
"Bill," said Tom, "I've been wondering ef we
couldn't manage some way to beat you out of
that dog. Don't you want to git rid of him?"
"No, Tom," replied the scout, "money wouldn't
buy that dog. But there's been two or three at
tempts made to steal him from me since I've been
here in town — I come pretty nigh having to kill a
feller about him just the other day — an', seeing as
he's taken such a shine to you fellers, I was
thinkin' of gettin' you to take him along with you
out to Larned an' leave him with somebody there
to keep for me till I come out; or maybe you'd
keep him with your outfit."
* Tom Carney, wholesale groceryman of Leavenworth City, was,
a year or two later, elected governor of Kansas.
31

THE WOLF HUNTERS
" Just the thing ! " exclaimed Jack. "We'll take
him along, all right, an' we won't leave him at Fort
Larned, either — we'll keep him till you call for
him." "Well, boys, I b'lieve he'll be useful to you, for
he's a shepherd an' takes to minding stock natu
rally, an' he's a good all-round watch-dog — one of
the smartest I ever saw. I call him 'Found,'
'cause I found him when he seemed to be lost.
You'll have to keep him tied up for a few days
when you leave here; after that, I think, he'll stick
to you, 'cause he's been used to lookin' after them
mules an' ponies all summer. But, mind you, now,
I ain't a-givin' him to you — only lendin' him."
"All right, Bill; he's your dog," said Tom, "an'
we'll take good care of him till you want him."
Thus Found became one of us.
That afternoon Tom began the work of esti
mating the supplies that we would need for our
winter's trip, endeavoring to calculate the quan
tity of each item of the provisions and from that
the weight that we would have to haul in our
wagon. As an old soldier, he made his figures on
the basis of rations — one man's allowance of each
article of food for one day. He said:
"We'll make our estimate at about the rate of
government rations, but, as we don't have to re
strict ourselves exactly to Uncle Sam's allowance
we'll allow a margin in some things to suit our
own notions." 32

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
Tom calculated that about four months' rations
for three men ought to be enough to carry us from
the middle of October to the middle of February,
and he told me to make my requisition for four
hundred rations of each article and set down the
number of pounds' weight of each as I went
along. "Of breadstuff's," he said, "we ought to take
about three fourths flour — three hundred pounds
— and one fourth hardtack — one hundred pounds.
That'll make four hundred pounds of freight.
Then, as an extra, a sack of corn-meal — fifty
pounds. "As we'll be able to kill plenty of wild meat,
two hundred rations of bacon will be enough. At
three fourths of a pound to the ration, that will
be one hundred and fifty pounds."
So he went through the list of beans, rice, hom
iny, coffee, tea, and sugar, with vinegar, salt, pep
per, yeast-powder, together with two hundred
pounds of potatoes and one hundred pounds of
onions. With some dried fruit and soap the total
weight came to one thousand five hundred and
forty-one pounds, to which he added one thousand
pounds of corn, as feed for the animals during the
worst weather. He purposed to take also a scythe
and hay-fork and, as soon as we got into camp,
to cut hay and make a stack as added provision
against bad weather. These things, together with
all the camp equipment to be carried, would
33

THE WOLF HUNTERS
make a load of not far from three thousand
pounds for the animals.
To this load I suggested that it would be a good
idea to add some interesting books to read at
night, and I told him that I purposed to subscribe
for some weekly papers which would give the
news of current events.
Wild Bill's skill in plains travel was evident in
many things about the outfit we had bought. He
had fastened straps on the outside of the wagon-
box to carry the tent-pole, tripod, and stovepipe,
and on the opposite side to hold the axe, pick, and
shovel, so that when needed on the road or in
camp the tools would be at hand.
On the plains one must be prepared to encounter
strong winds at any and all times, and often vio
lent storms, and on this account we commended
Bill's judgment in having selected a Sibley in
stead of a wall tent; for the Sibley is in many
respects a most serviceable tent.
It is conical in shape, like the Indian lodge,
but in other respects it is far superior to the red
man's habitation. It requires but a single short
pole which rests on an iron tripod, by pushing
together or spreading apart the feet of which
the canvas is easily stretched tight or slackened.
The aperture at the top for the escape of smoke is
provided with a canvas cap which can be shifted
so as to keep its back to the wind, thus insuring
a clear exit for the smoke. Two opposite doors
34

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
secure at least one entrance and exit away from
the wind. Its advantages over the wall-tent for
withstanding stormy weather and for comfort
and convenience are generally admitted by all
old campers.
The inventor of this most excellent tent was a
private soldier in the Second Dragoons, whom I

often saw at Fort Bridger, Utah, in '58, but whose
name I have forgotten.
The next day we drove down-town and bought
our supplies and on returning to camp loaded
the wagon for the trip to the plains, as Tom di
rected. "Put the heaviest truck, such as the sacks of
corn and flour, in the bottom an' well toward the
forward end," said he, "an' such things as the
mess box an' stove — that we'll be using, a good
deal on the road — in the hind end, where they'll be
35

THE WOLF HUNTERS
handy to git out of the wagon. The tent an' our
bundles of bedding can go on top. The camp-
stools, buckets, an' camp-kettles can be tied on
outside. An', mind you, everything must be
stowed away snug or we won't be able to get our
truck all on the wagon."
Stripping the wagon-sheets off the bows, we
packed the wagon to the best advantage, leaving
at the hind end a vacant space to receive the mess-
chest and stove. Replacing the sheets, we tied
them down snugly to the wagon-box, all around,
to be prepared for rainy weather.
Tom, who once had served as hospital steward,
had learned something of the use of medicines,
and during our stay in Leavenworth he fitted up
a small medicine-chest and stocked it with such
remedies as he knew how to use, to be prepared
for emergencies.
"You may not need 'em very often," he re
marked; "you may never need 'em; but, as Wild
Bill says of his pistols, when you do need 'em
you'll need 'em bad."
As we were to pull out in the morning, Wild
Bill rode out to our camp that evening to take
supper with us. The evening was pleasantly
passed with music from Jack's fiddle, singing by all
hands, and wound up by a jig danced by Wild
Bill which astonished and delighted us all.
As Wild Bill was mounting his horse to return
to town, Tom took the precaution to chain the
36

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
dog, Found, to a wheel of the wagon, to prevent
him from following his master.
Our commander, old Tom, had given orders for
an early start next morning, and before daylight
his call, "Turn out, men!" routed us out of our
blankets. Tom got breakfast, while Jack and I
fed the team and then groomed and harnessed
them while they ate.
We intended to feed them well on grain as long
as we were in the settlements, where it was plenty
and cheap; but after getting beyond Council
Grove there would be no more settlements, and
consequently no grain to be bought along the
road, and, as the grain we were hauling would
be needed later to carry our animals through the
cold of winter, they would have to depend on the
grass after leaving the settlements.
Daylight was upon us when we had finished
eating, and, all hands turning to, the dishes were
soon washed and packed away, the wagon loaded,
the team hitched up, the fire put out, and we were
off. Our team was fat, frisky, and well rested, and
walked away with its load with ease; but, fol
lowing our soldier training in starting out for a
long trip, we made short, easy drives for the first
few days, gradually increasing them till we reached
the maximum — about twenty-five miles a day.
Shortly after leaving Leavenworth we met our
old friends the bull-whackers, with whom we had
37

THE WOLF HUNTERS
made the first part of our trip on starting from
Fort Wise. They were just getting in with their
train, as dirty and jolly as ever. We were grati
fied to realize that we had gained so much time
and avoided so much dirt by transferring to the
mule train at the Santa Fe crossing of the Ar
kansas River.
Later we met more bull trains and other freight
ing outfits coming in but found few going west.
At this season most people were inclined to seek
the friendly shelter and comforts of the settle
ments rather than to brave the inclemencies and
dangers of the bleak plains.
Among the travellers whom we met coming in
was an occasional outfit of "busted Pike's Peak-
ers," as unfortunate and discouraged miners re
turning from the Pike's Peak gold region were
called. Most of these gave doleful accounts of
life and prospects in the Colorado mines.
For a few days after leaving Leavenworth we
kept the dog, Found, tied up, lest he should go
back to his master; but we were all kind to him,
and he showed no inclination to quit our company,
and when we turned him loose again he con
tentedly remained with our outfit.
We found the roads fine and the weather real
Indian summer; days hazy, warm, and pleasant,
nights cool, and mornings frosty, as is usual on
the plains at this the most pleasant time of the
year. 38

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
While in the settlements we indulged in such
luxuries as milk, butter, eggs, and so forth, when
ever they were to be bought, and we killed plenty
of prairie-chickens with our shotgun.
These prairie-chickens were very numerous in
the Kansas settlements, occurring in such multi
tudes that they were pests to the farmers, eating
great quantities of grain. They haunted the set
tled country or grain-producing parts but were
seldom found far out on the plains, though while
in the service I saw a few as far west as the Big
Bend of the Arkansas.
In the army the Sibley tent was calculated to
hold twelve to sixteen men — crowded pretty close
together — but in our Sibley, with only the three
occupants, there was room for stove, mess-chest,
camp-stools, or anything else we might bring
inside. Found always made his bed under the
wagon, where he could keep watch over the ani
mals and act as general camp guard.
In order to favor our team we made two drives
a day, stopping for an hour or so at noon to turn
the animals out on the grass, while we made cof
fee and ate some cold meat and bread. On our
afternoon drive, as night approached, we selected
a convenient place and camped, turning out the
team — except the flea-bitten gray mare, which
we always picketed as an anchor to the rest.
After supper, sprawled on our beds in the tent,
we talked and spun yarns. 39

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Tom having served three enlistments — fifteen
years — and Jack two, while I had only five years'
service as a soldier to my credit, I was considered
a raw recruit and usually listened while they
talked. When in a musical mood, Jack got out
his fiddle and played and sang.
We seldom lit a candle at night, for we had
only one box of candles and knew that before
us were many long winter evenings when lights
would be more needed than now. We had found,
rolled up in the tent, an infantry bayonet — the
best kind of a camp candlestick. When we had
occasion to light a candle we appreciated its
convenience. Since we first came from the plains into the
Kansas settlements we had heard much said about
jayhawkers. The term jayhawking as used then
Was a modified expression for theft or robbery,
but was applied more particularly to the depre
dations of gangs of armed and mounted ruffians,
who, taking advantage of the turbulent condition
of affairs resulting from the war — the civil law
being impotent or altogether lacking in many
parts of the scattering settlements of Kansas —
roamed at will through the country, hovering es
pecially along main thoroughfares and helping
themselves to other people's property. Some
times they professed to be volunteer soldiers or
government agents sent out to gather in good
horses, mules, or other property for the use of
40

BACK TO THE BUFFALO RANGE
Uncle Sam, giving bogus receipts for what they
took and saying that these receipts would be
honored and paid on their presentation to any
government quartermaster — which, of course, was
pure fiction.
Where they failed to get what they wanted by
other methods they did not hesitate to use vio
lence, even to killing those who resisted their
demands. Such were the Kansas jayhawkers of those
times, whom we had hoped to escape meeting;
but we had talked much of the possibilities and
probabilities of such an encounter and had de
cided on certain plans of action to frustrate the
probable movements of any jayhawkers whom we
might meet. We did not propose to be robbed
and stood ready to put up a strong bluff and, if
necessary, to fight to defend our property. In
view of a possible fight, arms were to be kept in
order and ammunition handy.
We had nearly reached Council Grove without
encountering any jayhawkers and had begun to
flatter ourselves that we were going to slip through
the settlements without having trouble with them.
At one or two places along the road, however, we
had heard that a party of jayhawkers had lately
been seen on the route ahead of us, and we had
been cautioned to look out for them.

4i

CHAPTER V
WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS
/^\NE day, on stopping at a store to buy some
^^ feed, just before reaching the crossing of a
timbered creek, we noticed two saddled horses
hitched to the fence and on entering the store
found two well-armed, rough-looking fellows loung
ing about, one of whom seemed to be half tipsy.
The store was also a post-office and presided over
by a very old man.
While Tom and the storekeeper retired to a
back room to measure out some grain, the two
ruffians began to manifest considerable interest
in our affairs, asking many questions, to all of
which Jack and I, who had left the team stand
ing in the road and walked up to the store, gave
rather curt answers.
Apparently not satisfied with our replies, the
drunken fellow staggered out toward our team,
remarking to his more sober companion:
"Joe, let's take a look at their outfit."
We paid little apparent attention to them but
quietly watched every movement they made, for
we began to suspect that these were some of the
robbers we had heard of.
Each of the men carried a pair of revolvers hung
42

WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS
to his belt. The most drunken one was a large,
swearing, swaggering ruffian who was addressed
by the other as "Cap." The one named "Joe"
was smaller and apparently more sober and wore
an old cavalry jacket.
As they walked around the team we heard an
ominous growl from our dog, Found. The big
fellow stepped back and laid a hand on the butt
of one of his pistols, and Jack quickly grasped the
handle of his own weapon and took a step or
two in the direction of the drunken ruffian, keeping
his eyes on the fellow's pistol hand. "Cap" saw
the movement and turned toward Jack, still with
his hand on his pistol, and remarked with an oath :
"Mister, ef that dog tries to bite me he dies."
"Then there'll be two dogs die," returned Jack
quietly, looking the fellow in the eye.
I kept a close watch of the motions of Joe, but
he made no threatening gestures and seemed
waiting to see what his leader would do.
"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the
drunken blusterer of Jack.
"I mean," replied the Irishman quietly, "that
if you keep away from that team and attend to
your own business the dog'll not hurt you; but you
draw a gun to shoot him, an' — well, you heard my
remark." Instead of resenting Jack's ultimatum, the big
fellow turned to his henchman and said:
"Joe, these men don't appear to have heard of
43

THE WOLF HUNTERS
me. Tell 'em who I am," and then disappeared
into the store.
Joe stepped up to Jack and said in a confiden
tial way:
"Pardner, you've made a big mistake to talk
so insulting to that man, an' I'm afraid you'll
have trouble about it. That's Captain Tucker,
one o' the worst men in Kansas. I reckon he's
killed more men than I've got fingers an' toes.
Best thing you can do now, is to foller him into
the store an' call for the drinks, apologize, like a
man, an' make it all up with him, fur he's tumble
when he's riled, specially when he's drinkin'."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Jack. "Why, he's a
bad one, ain't he? I'm right glad to know him."
"More'n that," added Joe, "he's captain of our
company, an' we're the toughest lot that ever
struck this country."
"Where's your company, and how many of
you is they?" asked Jack.
"Oh, they's a whole lot of us, an' we're camped
down on the crick a couple o' miles from here,"
was Joe's evasive reply.
I began to get uneasy. What if Jack's rashness
should bring this gang of desperadoes down on us ?
Jack was game and would not back down from the
stand he had taken. I knew that Tom — who was
still in the store getting his sack of grain and knew
nothing of the trouble we were about to get into
— was game, too, and would stand by the Irish-
44

WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS
man; and if it came to a fight I could at least
handle cartridges for them. But what could three
of us do against a gang of unknown numbers of
these lawless men?
"Jack, haven't you been a little too brash?
You may get us into a scrape if he brings up his
men." "Ef there's none of 'em more dangerous than
their captain there's nothin' to fear. I've studied
such fellows all my life, an' I never made a mis
take in one of his sort. He's just such another
blowhard as that 'bad man from Texas' that I
swatted in Leavenworth. An' on the principle of
'like master, like man,' you'll be apt to find that
this big company of desperadoes, if we ever meet
'em, will dwindle down to six or eight windy ruf
fians like their captain. I believe the three of
us could whip twenty of 'em. Such fellers don't
fight unless they can get the drop, an' we'll see
that they don't do that."
Just as we reached the store door I turned to
see what had become of Joe, and noticed him still
standing where we had left him — as near the mules
as Found would let him come — intently engaged
in writing or drawing something with a pencil on
a piece of paper. The paper he held in his hand
looked like a yellow envelope, and, nudging Jack,
I pointed to him.
Joe seemed to be deeply interested in his work,
looking first at the mules and then at his yellow
45

THE WOLF HUNTERS
envelope as he marked on it, and did not notice
us. I was still wondering what he could be doing
when the Irishman's quick wit comprehended the
situation, and he whispered :
"He's copyin' the brands on our mules. We'll
hear more of this by an' by."
"How?" I asked.
"He'll send somebody to claim 'em, on a lost-
strayed-or-stolen plea, an' the claimer will prove
ownership by showing the exact brands marked
on paper before he has been near the mules. I've
known that trick played before."
As we entered the store the old storekeeper and
Tom came out of the grain room — Tom with a
sack of corn on his shoulder, making mysterious
winks at us as he moved toward the door, indi
cating that he desired us to go back to the wagon.
The store man cast an inquiring glance at the
decanter and then at Captain Tucker. The lat
ter nodded his head and said:
"Chalk it down."
On the way to the wagon we met Joe, who had
probably completed draughting our mules' brands
to his satisfaction.
We told Tom of all that had occurred, and I
rather expected that he would reprimand Jack for
acting so rashly, but to my surprise he approved
of the Irishman's doings.
"Perfectly right, perfectly right," said Tom.
"It won't do to give back to such fellows a par-
46

WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS
tide. If we've got to have a brush with them,
right now an' here's as good a time an' place as
any. We must bluff 'em off right at the start
or fight. But we mus'n't forget the old sayin',
'Never despise your enemy'; he may turn out a
better fighter than you give him credit for bein'.
We must watch every move they make an' be
prepared to bluff 'em off at every trick they try.
Jack was right in suspecting that that fellow with
the cavalry jacket was copying the brands on our
mules. They'll be after trying to prove 'em away
from us, ef they can't bluff us."
"Did you find out anything about them from
the storekeeper?" I asked anxiously. "You were
in that back room so long I thought you must be
pumping him."
"Yes, I wasn't idle," replied Tom, "an' I found
out a whole lot. At first the old man was afraid
to talk, for he's scared of these fellers, but when I
promised him that we would not get him into
trouble he let out an' told me all he knows about
'em. "This is the gang we heard about at Burlin-
game and again at A-Hundred-an'-Ten-Mile
Creek," continued Tom. "They came to this
neighborhood about a week ago an' have been
robbin' and plunderin', an' everybody's afraid of
'em. The old storekeeper says that there are so
few able-bodied men left here — most all of 'em hav
ing gone off to the war — that the few citizens left
47

THE WOLF HUNTERS
can't well make any organized opposition to 'em.
This lot is an offshoot from Cleveland's gang of
jayhawkers that we heard about at Leavenworth.
It seems, the old fellow says, that this Captain
Tucker was a lieutenant under Cleveland, an'
they couldn't agree — each one wanted to be boss
— so Tucker with a few followers split off from
Cleveland an' started a gang of his own."
"Well, but did you find out how many there
are in this gang?" I asked.
"Yes. The old man says that they try to make
people believe that there is a big company, but
from the best information he can get there are
only seven or eight."
"What did I tell you?" said Jack contemptu
ously. "Ef they're no better than these two
we're good for that many, easy."
"Yes," said Tom, "ef we don't let 'em get the
drop on us I think we can stand 'em off; but we
may find 'em a tougher lot than we take 'em for —
ef they tackle us for a fight we've just got to
clean 'em out, it's a ground-hog case. An' as to
killin' 'em, I'd have no more hesitation about it
than I would to kill a hostile Injun. Ef we have
to open fire on 'em I want you men to shoot to
kill, an' I'll do the same. These jayhawkers have
been declared outlaws by orders from the com
mander of the department, an' the troops are
turned loose to hunt 'em down, kill 'em, or break
up the gangs wherever they can be found.
48

WE MEET DOUBTFUL CHARACTERS
"The old storekeeper says they've just taken
possession of his store," he continued, "helpin'
themselves to his liquor or anything else they
want, tellin' him to 'chalk it down' an' by an' by
they'll settle with him.
"A boy from the neighborhood who had been
down to their camp to sell 'em some butter told
the old man that there was only seven men of
'em an' they had a tent an' a two-horse wagon.
The boy said they had lots of good horses, an'
the old man thinks they gather in all the good
horses an' mules they can find in the country an'
now an' then send a lot of 'em in to Leavenworth
an' sell 'em to the contractors there who are
buyin' up horses an' mules for the government.
"Whatever happens," continued Tom, "we
must be careful not to compromise this old store
keeper an' his family, for he's very much afraid
of these jayhawkers an' cautioned me several
times not to let them get a suspicion that he had
told us anything about them.
"I put an idea in his head, though, which may
be the means of ridding this neighborhood of these
rascals. I told him to write a letter to General
Hunter, in command of the department at Fort
Leavenworth, tellin' him the situation out here,
an' to request the general to send out a company
of cavalry to clean out this gang an' give protec
tion to the farmers an' people travelling the road.
"He jumped at the idea an' said he would
49

THE WOLF HUNTERS
write the letter right away an' send it in by the
mail which will go past this afternoon. I think
the general will send the troops immediately, for
he is makin' war on these bushwhackers wherever
he can hear of them. If the scheme is carried out
right the soldiers will be apt to kill or capture
this whole gang. I'd like to stay an' help 'em at
it, but it will take four or five days, at least,
before the soldiers can get here. Ef this gang
undertakes to make war on us we may have to
teach 'em a lesson on our own hook."
"Well, Tom," I asked, "what are your plans
for meeting this emergency if you think these fel
lows are going to give us trouble?"
Before he could answer me the two jayhawk
ers came out of the store and, without making
any hostile demonstrations, went to their horses,
mounted, and rode a little way back down the
road we had come, and then, turning across the
prairie struck for the timber farther down the
creek. They eyed us in passing but said not a
word. As they rode past us we noticed that
both were mounted on good-looking animals, es
pecially Tucker, whose mount was a splendid,
large black horse of fine proportions and good
movement.

5°

CHAPTER VI
STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
¦\T7"HILE Jack and I stowed away the sack of
"" corn and waited for Tom's reply to my
question, he stood watching the disappearing rid
ers till an intervening rise of ground hid them
and then began to unfold his plans.
"It's earlier in the day than we generally camp,"
said Tom thoughtfully, "but under the circum
stances we must select a camp not far from here
an' hang up till we see what they're going to do.
Ef we try to go on farther they'll think we're
running from 'em. We must camp in open
ground where they can't get in shooting distance
of us without showing themselves in open prairie.
"I asked the storekeeper about the lay of the
land on the other side of the creek, an' he told
me of a good place to camp about a half mile
beyond the ford, where there's an abandoned
house out in the prairie an' a good well. The
family who owned the place got scared out and
moved into Topeka to stay till times get better.
There's where we'll camp; so let's get there an'
get prepared for action in case this outfit gives
us a call. They won't let us go by without trying
some bluff game on us an' maybe a fight.
51

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"I don't think there's any need of it here,"
added Tom as he looked toward the timber at the
crossing of the creek ahead of us, "but, to be on
the safe side, while I drive the team, Jack, you
an' Peck may take your guns and form a skirmish
line ahead of me as we go through the timber."
We did so, but, finding no sign of an enemy, as
we again came out on the prairie we joined the
wagon and rode up to the abandoned house and
camped in a good, defensible position. There was
no grass close to the house whereon to picket our
team, but some hay that had been left in the
barn made a good substitute.
Finding the inside of the house littered with
waste and rubbish left by the recent occupants,
we pitched our tent near the wagon, as usual,
camping by the house merely to secure a defen
sible location in open ground with wood and
water convenient.
We were confident that we would receive a call
from the jayhawkers and hurried our dinner,
keeping an anxious lookout back along the road
toward the store, which was now hidden from us
by the timber.
After we had cleared away the dishes Tom or
dered :
"Now, men, see that everything is prepared
for action. See that all arms are in good work
ing order, an' have a good supply of ca'tridges
handy." 52

STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
Such orders were hardly necessary, for we made
it a rule at all times to keep our arms in good
shape and cartridges convenient.
"Here they come!" exclaimed Jack in great
glee, and, looking toward the store, we could see
a party of mounted men just coming out of the
timber at the creek crossing. As soon as the an
nouncement was made Tom brought the field-
glass to bear on them and began counting:
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven — all
told." Then he added: "They would likely leave
only one man back to take care of camp; so eight
is about the full strength of the gang, just as we
heard." Passing the glass to me, he added :
"As soon as they get in hailing distance I'll
halt 'em, an' you men will be ready to enforce my
commands. Ef they don't halt at the first com
mand I'll halt 'em again, an' maybe the third
time, but not more. An' when I give the com
mand, 'Fire!' remember your old training — aim
about the saddles an' let em' have it, an' don't
waste your ca'tridges. Let each one of us try to
see how many saddles he can empty."
To me this sounded serious, but the veteran
was as cool about it as if giving instructions to a
squad of soldiers on skirmish drill. Jack always
seemed happy when there was a good prospect of
a fight before him. I must admit that I began to
feel a little squeamish as the jayhawkers drew near
53

THE WOLF HUNTERS
us, but I was somewhat reassured by the firm and
fearless demeanor of my comrades.
As the jayhawkers approached it was seen that
all except the leader, "Cap" Tucker, carried
rifles, carbines, or shotguns in addition to their
pistols. All seemed to be well mounted, but
Tucker was particularly conspicuous by his fine
black horse. They followed the main road till
opposite the house where we were and then
turned and rode toward us at a walk.
As soon as they had approached within easy
hail Tom took a few steps toward them and,
bringing his Sharp's rifle to a ready, sung out:
"Halt!"
Jack and I moved up in his rear and came to
the same position.
The jayhawkers did not seem to be expecting
such a manoeuvre on our part and did not promptly
obey Tom's first command; but by the time he
had repeated "Halt!" in a louder tone they took
the hint, and Tucker quickly ordered his men to
stop. Turning to us, he called out in a tone of
indignant surprise:
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I say," replied Tom. "Ef you men
have any business with us, one of you — and only
one — can advance an' make it known. The rest 11
stand where they are."
Turning and speaking a few words to his men,
Tucker then rode up to us.
54

STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
As the big captain halted a few feet from us he
demanded angrily:
"What do you men mean by drawing your guns
on us an' halting us this way?"
"In these doubtful times," replied Tom, "we
don't propose to allow a party of armed men to
enter our camp without first finding out who they
are an' what's their business with us. Will you
please tell us what yours is?"
"Why, certainly," returned the big ruffian.
"We are free rangers looking up stray an' stolen
stock an' also gathering in good hosses an' mules
fer the government. Have you any objections to
that?" "Not in the least," said Tom, "but we have no
stray or stolen stock an' no horses or mules for
sale, an' I don't see as you have any further busi
ness with this outfit."
"The reason why we've made this call on you
is this," answered Tucker. "A short time ago one
of my men had a fine pair of mules stole from him
an' trailed 'em down nigh to Leavenworth where
he lost track of 'em. I learned from the old store
keeper over the crick yonder that you men had
lately bought your mules in Leavenworth, an'
when I went back to camp an' mentioned this
matter to Bill Sawyer he got to thinkin' about
it, an' he thought that possibly you might of
bought his mules without knowin' they was stole;
an' so I jes' brung him an' a few more of the boys
over to look at your mules." 55

THE WOLF HUNTERS
While the captain was making his little speech
Jack gave me an occasional wink, which seemed to
say: "Listen to what's comin'."
"Now, pardner," continued the jayhawker, "we
ain't in the habit of spending much time arguing
about a matter of this kind, an', as I tol' you be
fore, we're a-gatherin' up mules an' hosses fer the
government, an' whenever we find any that suits
we just take 'em, givin' an order on Uncle Sam,
an' he foots the bill. But to show you that we're
dealing on the square with you men about these
mules, ef they ain't ours we don't want 'em. Now,
I'll make you a fair proposition. The man that
lost the mules I'm talking about is out yonder, an'
he's never seen your mules yet. He's got the
brands marked down on a piece of paper. Now,
ef you're honorable men an' willing to do what's
right I don't see how you can help accepting my
proposition, which is this: I'll call Bill Sawyer
up here an' let him show his brands as they're
marked down on that paper afore he's ever had a
chance to see the brands on your mules, an' ef the
brands he's got marked down is the same as wh it's
on them mules, why, it's a plain case that they
must be his mules. Now, what do you say to
that?" Tom gave no sign that he was "onto their
game," but merely said:
"Call your man up, but only him — no more."
Tucker rode out a few steps toward his gang
and called: 56

STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
"Bill Sawyer, come here!" and then returned to
us, while William Sawyer, who seemed to have
been rehearsed in his part, came trotting up with
alacrity, feeling in his inside pocket for the paper
that he seemed to know — although he had been
out of hearing distance of us — was to be called
for at this stage of the game. As Sawyer left
his chums they all gathered about Joe — he of the
old cavalry jacket — and seemed to be holding
an earnest consultation.
As Sawyer reached us I had time to notice that
he wore a green patch over his left eye — or the
place where the eye had been; a villainous grin
added devilishness to his sinister countenance.
-In his hand he held the same old yellow envelope
that Jack and I had seen Joe using to copy the
mules' brands on.
Taking the old envelope triumphantly from his
man, Tucker passed it to Tom with a confident
air as he demanded.
"Now, let's compare the brands marked on that
paper with the brands on them mules." And
he turned his horse as if to ride around on the
other side of our wagon, where the mules were
tied. "'Twon't be necessary — wait a minute," re
turned Tom as he passed the old envelope to Jack
and me with the query: "Do you men recognize
that paper?"
"Yes, we've seen it before," we both answered.
57

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"What do you mean?" demanded Tucker in as
sumed astonishment.
"Just this," replied Tom, looking sternly at the
jayhawkers' captain. "This little joke of your'n
has gone about far enough. These two men,"
pointing to Jack and me, "stood an' watched that
feller you call Joe — that sneaking coyote out
yonder who wears the old cavalry jacket — take
this ol' yellow envelope out of his pocket an' copy
on it the brands of our mules while the team was
standin' in front of the store, when Joe had no
idea he was bein' watched. Now, I don't want
to hear any more of this foolishness. Mr. Jay
hawker, ef you've any other business with us
please state it. Ef not this meeting stands ad
journed." Seeing that his deception was detected and that
the scheme failed, Tucker apparently concluded
to try a bluff on us.
"If you won't listen to reason," said he, "we'll
show you what we can do in another line. I'm
satisfied that them's Sawyer's mules an' we're
going to have 'em. It'll leave you fellows in a
bad fix to break up your team by taking the mules,
but I'm willin' to do what's right. You give the
mules up peaceably and I've got a pair of good,
old chunky ponies down to camp that I'll sell you
cheap. You may have 'em fer a hundred dollars.
I'll just call the boys up an' we'll take the mules
along with us now, an'  "
58

STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
"Oh, no you won't," interrupted Tom in a
quiet but firm tone as he began fingering the lock
of his rifle.
"Why, pardner," exclaimed Tucker in appar
ent astonishment, "you don't mean to say you'd
be so foolish as to compel us to use force? I've
got some forty odd men over to camp. Ef you
don't give up them mules peaceably I'll go an'
bring the whole company, an' then — well, you'll
have to pay fer the trouble you've put us to, in
course." A smile of contempt spread over Tom's visage
as he replied :
"Trot out your company an' try to take them
mules an' we'll show you what we'll do for you."
Jack and I were keenly alive to all that was
going on and, while watching the five ruffians out
on the prairie, were prepared to meet any threat
ening move any of them might make.
Being out of hearing of the argument, the squad
on the prairie seemed to be growing restless.
One of them called out to Tucker as though solicit
ing an order to charge on us :
"Cap, don't you want us up there to settle that
matter? Ef you do, jes' say the word!"
Tucker hesitated before answering and looked
about our camp as though calculating the chances.
The notion — if he entertained it — was quickly dis
pelled by Tom, who growled out:
"You give 'em the order to advance an' it'll be
59

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the last one you'll ever give. We've got the dead-
wood on you two fellers an' we'll give a good ac
count of them others, too, ef they attempt to come
on." Tucker acknowledged the situation by shout
ing to his men in the offing:
"No! No! Stay where you are!" Then, turn
ing to Tom, he continued: "Now, pardner, I've
got one more last proposition to make you, to
save you trouble, an' that is this : We'll take them
mules over to our camp an'  "
"That'll do," interrupted Tom. "I've heard
enough of that. You'll never take them mules to
your camp, or anywhere else, while I'm alive.
You know that neither you nor this other feller
has any more right to them mules than I have to
the horses you're ridin'. I don't want to hear any
more of your nonsense. The best thing you two
can do is to git away from here. If I see one of
you in range of our rifles again he's liable to git a
hole in his hide. Five minutes to get out of
range! Now, git!"
Tucker turned his horse and, calling, "Come on,
Bill," they started to join their waiting comrades.
After a few steps the captain turned in his saddle
and, with a threatening nod to Tom, said : "I'll see
you later."
"Ef you do it won't be good for you," retorted
Tom. Tucker and Sawyer joined the others, and with-
60

'Five minutes to get out of range! Now, git!"

STANDING OFF THE JAYHAWKERS
out further demonstration they moved off sul
lenly back along the road toward the store and
soon disappeared in the timber.
"They ain't done with us yet," said Tom mus
ingly. "'Tain't likely that they'll make an open
attack on us while we're in this camp because
they can't well get the drop on us here. The
most natural thing would be fer 'em to slip past
us to-night, or go 'round an' get ahead of us, an'
lay for us in the timber at the crossing of some
creek on the road ahead. I think that one of
you men might as well slip over into the timber
yonder, near the store, an' by keeping out of sight
an' watchin' them you may be able to guess what
they're going to do. They'll be certain to stop
awhile at the store an' fire up on the ol' man's
whiskey, an' then's the time they'll be apt to be
careless about talking their plans over, an' after
they've settled on what they intend to do they'll
go on to camp to get their suppers. After they
go on to camp, ef you'd slip into the store an'
have a talk with the old man maybe he could tell
you what they're up to."
"That's just to my notion, Tom," said Jack.
"I was just a-thinkin' of goin' on a little, spying
expedition after them fellers. I think I can find
out what their game is, an' by all that's good an'
bad, I'll not come back till I do."
So saying, taking his revolvers and shotgun,
Jack struck out down a ravine that led to the
61

THE WOLF HUNTERS
creek and was soon out of sight, while Tom and I
busied ourselves attending to the stock and other
camp duties.

62

CHAPTER VII
JACK TAKES A PRISONER
TACK had been gone a couple of hours and it
** had become quite dark, when our dog Found,
by growling, pricking up his ears, and looking to
ward the road, gave notice that some one was ap
proaching. On listening closely we could hear some one
coming, but the tramping sounded like that of a
horse. We had made no light after dark, for we
did not intend to cook any supper and our experi
ence in the Indian country had taught us to dis
pense with lights when in the vicinity of an enemy.
As soon as we were assured that the coming par
ty, whoever they were, were making for our camp,
Tom whispered: "Get your gun an' follow me."
With that he took his rifle and, advancing stealthily
for several paces toward the approaching persons —
whose voices we could hear — he squatted down in
a patch of weeds on the path leading to the road
while I followed and did the same. We had
chained the dog to a wheel of the wagon lest he
should rush on the newcomers before we could
find out who they were.
We had scarcely got settled in the position we
63

THE WOLF HUNTERS
had taken when we discerned two dark bodies
nearing us that seemed to be a man on foot and,
just behind him, a mounted man.
Letting them come on till they were within a
few feet of the muzzles of our rifles, Tom's voice
suddenly rang out:
"Halt! Who comes there?"
We could now see plainly that there were but
two persons, a footman and a mounted man, and
heard a prompt response from the horseman, in
the unmistakable voice of our Irishman, as they
both suddenly stopped.
"Jack, with a prisoner!" This sounded agree
able but mystifying, but the speaker enlightened
us by adding: "I've captured Tucker, the jay-
hawker, and his horse."
We all moved back to our tent and struck a
light to take a look at Jack's captures and hear
his explanation. But the Irishman declined to
talk in the presence of his prisoner more than to
answer a few commonplace questions.
By the light of the candle we saw Jack had tied
the prisoner's arms together at the elbows, behind
his back, with the end of the jayhawker's lariat,
while with the other end securely fastened to the
horn of his saddle he had been driving the fellow
before him.
The desperado seemed now very crestfallen
and by no means pugnacious and had nothing to
say. 64

JACK TAKES A PRISONER
"What are you going to do with him, Jack?" I
asked in hearing of the captive.
"Oh, make a 'spread eagle' of him on a hind
wheel of the wagon till mornin', I suppose, an'
then take him down to the timber an' hang him
an' be done with him," he replied as he began to
put the first part of this programme into execu
tion. The "spread eagle" is made by requiring the
prisoner to stand with his back against a hind
wheel of a wagon; his arms are then stretched out
on each side and tied by the wrists to the upper
rim of the wheel, while his ankles, with feet spread
apart, are tied in like manner to the bottom of the
wheel. The prisoner can ease himself a little by
sitting on the hub of the wheel, but this affords
an insecure and uncomfortable seat.
As soon as we had securely spread the big
jayhawker on the wheel, Jack left me to watch
him, with a caution to see that he did not work
himself loose, while he unsaddled and picketed
out the fine black horse he had captured. When
this was accomplished he called Tom and me off to
one side, far enough to be out of hearing of the
prisoner, taking the precaution to place the light
near the open tent door where it would shine on
our "spread eagle," so that we could see if he
made any effort to free himself, and then Jack
gave us a detailed account of his trip.
"When I got to a place in the timber where I
6S

THE WOLF HUNTERS
could see the store, I saw that the jayhawkers'
horses was all hitched to the fence an' I knew they
was inside. Pretty soon they all comes out an'
mounts, an' all except this man Tucker struck out
toward their camp. After seein' them off, Tucker
mounted an' struck off in a different direction, up
the creek like. I couldn't make out what he was
up to, but I thought I would go in an' have a chat
with the storekeeper as soon as the coast was
clear. I went in an' had quite a talk with the oP
man, an', sure enough, he had heard enough of
their talk to make sure that their plan was about
what Tom had guessed it would be. They would
go back to their camp an' wait till after midnight,
an' then mount an' take a circuit 'round our
camp, pass, an' git ahead of us, an' lay for us in
the timber at the crossing of the next creek, which
the old man says is only a mile and a half from
here. Tucker had concluded that while he sent
his men back to camp he would ride over the
route they intended to take an' look at the lay
of the land so as to be able to place his men to
the best advantage to get the drop on us.
"In going to the place he had kept up the creek
for a piece an' then circled 'round across the
prairie to the little creek so's not to be seen or
heard by any of us here; but in comin' back he
had followed the main road, 'cause he knew it
was too dark by that time for any of us to tell
who he was as he passed along the road.
66

JACK TAKES A PRISONER
"I was just comin' out of the timber, after
crossin' the creek this side of the store, on my way
back to camp, when I spied him a-comin' down
the hill toward me at a walk, an' I squatted down
so's to get him 'tween me an' the sky, to get a
better view of him, to make sure it was him; an'
then I made up my mind to take him in right
there. "So I got back behind a tree right beside the
road, an' when he got nearly to me I stepped out
with both barrels cocked an' called out to him to
halt. He pulled up, sudden like, with a jerk, an'
asked : 'What's up ? What's up ? '
'"Don't you make a motion toward your pis
tols,' says I, 'or I'll put two big loads of buckshot
into you.' I wasn't more'n six feet from him, an'
he must have seen that he had no show to get
away or draw a gun. 'Now,' says I, 'do just as I
order you, an' don't you try any foolishness, or
I'll fill you full of lead. First thing,' says I, 'un
buckle that belt an' drop belt an' pistols in the
road.' He did so, at the same time saying:
'Pardner, I reckon you've mistook me for some
body else. Who do you take me fur and who
are you, anyway?'
'"I've made no mistake,' I answered. 'You're
Tucker, the jayhawker, an' I'm Jack, the giant-
killer' — an' wasn't that a big bluff? 'Now,' says I,
'back out a step till I pick up your guns.'
"He did so, an' I kept a close watch of him
67

THE WOLF HUNTERS
while I gathered in his battery an' buckled the
belt around me over my own.
"Then I commanded, 'Dismount!' which he did
like a little man, an' I made him tie his horse to a
tree; an' then I undone his lariat from his saddle
an' made him turn his back to me while I tied his
elbows together behind his back with one end of
the lariat; an' with the other end made fast to the
horn of the saddle, with a good holt of it in me
fist, I mounted his fine horse an' druv him before
me, as you saw.
"An' now what are we to do with him? No
doubt he deserves hanging, as they all do, but it
ain't my style to kill a helpless prisoner an' I know
you nor Tom wouldn't do such a thing, though
I told Tucker, comin' along — just to keep him
well scared up that we would hang him in the
mornin', sure as fate, as soon as it was light enough
to see how to do a good job of it; an' I b'lieve he's
afeard we're going to do it, for he's been mighty
serious ever since. Ef we was nigh to any of
Uncle Sam's sogers we could just turn him over
to them, an' they'd fix him, sure, for the order is
out fer these jayhawkers to be exterminated to
death or druv out of Kansas, an' the sogers is
huntin' 'em down wherever they can hear of 'em.
By the way, the oP storekeeper told me that he
had sent off that letter, by the mail that went past
this evenin', to General Hunter, at Leavenworth,
askin' him to send a few sogers out along the Santa
Fe road to look after these fellers."
68

JACK TAKES A PRISONER
While Jack had been telling us all this we had
been standing far enough away from the prisoner
so that we were sure he could not hear what was
said. Tom, while apparently listening to Jack, asked
no questions and offered no suggestions but
seemed wrapped in his own thoughts, and I knew,
from often having seen him in a similar revery,
that he was studying out some "strategy," as he
would call it, to spring on our enemies, the jay
hawkers. When Jack came to a pause Tom began:
"Men, we can't afford to fool away much more
time with these robbers. An idea struck me when
I saw that big fellow tied to the wagon wheel, an'
I've been ponderin' on it ever since, an' if we can
carry out the scheme I think I see a way of run
ning a bluff on him an' his gang that will scare
'em out of this neighborhood, an' that will be the
next best thing to killing 'em an' we won't have
to stay here. Now, listen an' I'll give you a hint
of my plan. We'll go into the tent, where we'll be
close enough to him for Tucker to hear what we're
saying ef he listens right sharp, an' I know he'll
do that. I'll give you two men a little talk that'll
go to show that instead of our being what we've
represented ourselves to be — that is, three wolf
hunters goin' out to the buffalo range — we are
really three soldiers disguised this way an' sent out
here to do a little detective service on purpose to
69

THE WOLF HUNTERS
locate this gang of jayhawkers, an' that the com
pany of cavalry to which we belong is coming on
close behind us, ready to swoop down an' gobble
up the gang as soon as I give 'em the word. An'
then, when we git Tucker to take this all in we'll
manage to let him escape an' carry this news to
his gang; an' ef I ain't badly mistaken they'll
pack up an' pull out from here as quick as they
can get away. Now, mind you, I'm sergeant in
charge." "Be the powers o' mud," exclaimed Jack.
"That's a fine scheme if we can only make it
work, ef it pans out the way you've planned it.
Tom — or sergeant, I should have said — I'll always
think that a great general was sp'ilt when they
made only a private of you. Now go ahead with
your rat killin' an' let's be tryin' it on."
As our conference ended we strolled back to the
tent and Tom began giving orders for guarding
our prisoner through the night.
"Now, men, we'll divide the night into three
parts, like a 'running guard,' an' each one of us'll
take a third of the night to stand post. An', mind
you, don't go to sleep on post or the prisoner
might git away. I guess we'll let Jack take the
first watch, an' you, Peck, can come on for the
middle tour, an' you may call me up for the last
turn. Ef you think you won't git sleepy you
might bring out one of the camp-chairs an' take a
seat where you can keep a close watch of the pris-
70

JACK TAKES A PRISONER
oner; but ef you find yourself gittin' the least bit
drowsy you must get up an' walk about, for it
won't do for the sentry to go to sleep to-night."
"Why, fellows," whined the big jayhawker,
"you shorely don't mean to leave me in this fix
all night, do you? I don't see how I can stan' it
so' long."
"Well, as to that," said Jack with a fierce look
of assumed heartlessness, "ef it'd be any accom
modation to you we might be able to rig up some
sort of a gallows out about the barn an' swing you
off to-night so's you wouldn't have to stan' there
all night. Come to think of it," he continued,
turning to Tom and me, "that would be a good
scheme for us as well as to put the prisoner out of
his misery, fer ef we hang him to-night instead of
waitin' till mornin' we'll save ourselves the trouble
of standing guard over him, an' that's quite an
item. What do you say to it?"
But Tom and I decided that with no better
light than a candle, which the wind might blow
out, the jayhawker might escape, and if he didn't
we would not be able to do a good job of hanging
with so poor a light. And the prisoner concluded
that he would try and worry through the night on
the wagon wheel rather than put us to so much
inconvenience.

71

CHAPTER VIII
TOM'S STRATEGY
/^ALLING us inside the tent and changing
^-^ our bayonet candlestick to a position where
it would be protected from the wind, while the
light would still shine on the prisoner through
the open tent door, Tom, in a low voice, began
giving us the talk that we intended Tucker should
overhear. "Now, men," began the old man, "the objects
of our expedition are so nearly accomplished that
I thought I'd better explain the situation to you
more fully so that you will clearly understand the
parts you are to play in our future movements.
Everything is working out, so far, just as the cap
tain planned it. I don't believe that anybody
along the road or any of these jayhawkers sus
pects us of being soldiers or anything else but
jest what we've told 'em, that we are three wolf
hunters goin' out to the buffalo range. There's
nothin' military about our team an' camp outfit
except the Sibley tent an' our rifles, an' lots of
citizens use them; an' laying aside our uniforms
an' puttin' on these new buckskin togs makes us
look like three tenderfeet tryin' to imitate fron-
72

TOM'S STRATEGY
tiersmen. I must give our captain credit for long-
headedness, for 'twas him planned the whole ex
pedition." "An' I give the captain credit," interrupted
Jack, "for selectin' a sergeant, among all the non-
coms of the company, who could carry out his
plans to the letter."
"Thanks," returned Tom with a wink. "An'
the two privates that were selected to go with the
sergeant shows that our captain knows his men."
"Now," continued Tom, "ef things turn out as
they look now, I think our trip'll end right here,
for we've got our game purty nigh bagged. The
captain, with the company, has kept just far
enough behind us to keep out of sight, an' to-night
they're about ten miles back on the road; an' ef
he gits the message I sent to him this afternoon,
which I'm sure he will, they ought to be here, or
over about the store, rather — for there's where I
promised to meet 'em — a little after midnight."
I c:>uld see that our prisoner was taking a keen
interest in Tom's remarks, craning his neck for
ward and turning an ear toward the tent door in
an attitude of attentive listening.
"I have arranged with the boy," continued the
old veteran, "who carried my message back to the
captain, to guide the company up to the store an'
to meet me there not later than two o'clock to
night. An' this boy has been down to the jay-
hawkers' cajnp an' knows the lay of the land all
73

THE WOLF HUNTERS
around there; an' when I join the captain an' com
pany the boy is to guide us all to the camp, or
nigh enough so that the captain can string the
company all around 'em; an' as soon as it's light
enough we'll close in on 'em an' make sure that
nary one gits away. From what Jack says, they
are all pretty full of whiskey an' will be apt to
sleep sound, an' it'll be an easy matter to gobble
the whole caboodle."
"Sh, sergeant," I said in a loud enough whisper
for the prisoner to hear. "Don't talk so loud —
the jayhawker might hear you."
"Oh, I don't think he could hear what I say,
'way out there; but it won't make much differ
ence ef he does, fer he'll never live long enough to
profit by what he might hear, for he's pretty nigh
as good as a dead man right now. His time's
short." Tucker had dropped his head forward — in our
direction — as far as he could lean, and had closed
his eyes as if asleep, but was trying to catch jvery
word that was said.
"But, sergeant," I asked Tom, "what will the
captain do with the jayhawkers after he takes 'em
in — take 'em back to Leavenworth as prisoners?"
"Not much," replied the old man. "He has
his orders from General Hunter to exterminate
these jayhawkers wherever he can catch 'em — to
shoot or hang 'em; an' you know our old captain
is jest the man that'll take delight in carryin' them
74

TOM'S STRATEGY
orders out to the letter. We've heard complaints
enough from people along the road to satisfy the
captain that these rescals are entitled to no mercy,
an' you bet they'll get none from him."
"But, sergeant," inquired Jack, "what will we
do with this feller? Hang him in the mornin'?"
"No; unless he should try to get away, accord
ing to my orders, we'll have to keep him till the
company gits here an' then turn him over to the
captain. It'll only delay his hanging a little while,
for the captain'U fix him quick enough. But ef
he should accidentally get loose an' run, why,
shoot him, of course."
"Well, I'm sorry," said Jack, "that we can't
hang him ourselves as soon as daylight comes, fer
I promised him that, an' I always like to make my
words good."
"Now," continued Tom, "I want you two men
to keep a close watch of him an' give him no
chance to give us the slip, for that'd spoil all our
plans." "We'll see that he don't get away."
"Well, as I've got to meet the captain an' com
pany over at the store a little after midnight, I'll
lie down an' try to git a little sleep, an' you an'
Jack'll have to divide the time between you,
guardin' the prisoner, for, of course, I'll not be
able to get back here till some time after daylight,
an' when I come it'll be with the company. I
guess," added Tom after a pause, "I'd better ride
75

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the jayhawkers' horse over to meet the company;
he'll make a better mount for me than one of our
broncos." "Yes, do so," said Jack; "he's a good one, I
think." Then he added pleadingly: "But, ser
geant, is they no way we could fix it so that me
an' Peck could go with you on this round-up?
S'pose we go out to the barn an' hang this feller
to-night, or shoot him, an' say he tried to run —
then we could all go."
"No," replied Tom decidedly, "that won't do
at all. Remember the old saying, 'It's a good sol
dier that obeys orders,' an' we've got our orders
to hold any and all prisoners we may chance to
take and turn 'em over to the captain. Much as
I'd like to have both of you along, you must stay
an' take care of the camp an' prisoner. But I'll
speak a good word to the captain fer you, an' I
think I can safely promise that you'll both be
made corporals as soon as there's vacancies in the
company." "Well," said Jack sorrowfully, "I suppose we'll
have to stan' it; but I hate like blazes to break my
promise to the jayhawker, for I told him he could
depend on bein' hung at daylight."
"But, sergeant," I put in, "won't the jayhawk
ers down at their camp, waiting for their chief,
suspect something wrong when he don't show
up?" "No, it ain't likely. They were all pretty full
76

TOM'S STRATEGY
on leaving the store, Jack says, an' they'll be apt
to go right to sleep on gettin' to camp an' think
no more about it till mornin'. An' ef they do hap
pen to miss him they'll think he got too drunk to
git back to camp an' so laid out some'ers.
"Now, Jack," said Tom in concluding this con
versation, "you may as well put that candle out
an' take post outside where you kin keep an eye
on the prisoner. An', Peck, you'll take a turn
around camp, to see that the animals are all tied
securely, an' then turn in, an' you an' me'll be
tryin' to get what sleep we can afore it's time for
us to go on."
As we came out of the tent the captive seemed
to be just rousing up from a nap he pretended to
have been taking and whined:
"Men, would you mind loosenin' these strings
around my wrists and ankles a little mite?
They're cuttin' into my flesh."
"Well," replied Tom compassionately, "we
don't want to torture a man unnecessarily. It'll
be enough to put him to death properly, when the
time comes, without keepin' him a-sufferin' so
long. Loosen up them cords a little, Jack. There
won't be much danger of his gettin' away, without
you should go to sleep, an' I know you won't do
that." Jack complied witfi Tom's instructions with ap
parent reluctance, grumbling as he did so. He
purposely slackened the cords on the wrists so
77

THE WOLF HUNTERS
much that the man would probably be able to
slip his hands out of them, seeming to rely on his
watchfulness and shotgun to prevent the possi
bility of an escape. Then bringing out a camp-
chair, the Irishman sat down with the shotgun
across his lap while I made a tour of the camp as
directed. Then joining Tom in the tent, I put out
the light and we pretended to turn in for a sleep.
In reality we lay down near the open tent door,
where, having the prisoner between us and the
white wagon cover, we could see every motion he
might make, for it had been arranged that Jack
should apparently go to sleep in his chair and let
the jayhawker have a chance to get away.
Jack had prudently taken his seat far enough
from the prisoner so that the latter could not,
after freeing himself, spring upon him and seize
his shotgun, and Tom and I, in anticipation of
such an effort, lay down with pistols ready to
defeat the move should it be attempted. We had
chained the dog far enough away to be out of
reach of the jayhawker, for fear that he might
catch the fugitive and thus spoil our scheme.
Tucker remained in his fixed position on the
wagon wheel an exasperatingly long time before
he began to make any move toward freeing him
self, and he remained so still that I began to
think that he had fallen asleep in spite of his un
comfortable position.
After manifestly keeping awake for a reasonable
78

TOM'S STRATEGY
time so as to give his actions a semblance of re
ality, Jack began to nod in his chair, and finally
let his head drop against the back of his seat, very
naturally, but in a position that would enable
him, through nearly closed eyes, to watch every
move of the prisoner; and then the Irishman be
gan to snore. Tom and I responded by doing our
share of hard breathing, and now the captive be
gan to show some signs of life.
In the dim light I could see him — silhouetted
against the white wagon cover — leaning over to
his left and working his right arm as if slipping
the hand out of the loop that held it to the wheel.
When that hand was free he resumed his original
position, kept perfectly still for a moment, and,
when apparently assured that we were all still
asleep, he dropped his free right hand slowly to
his waist and carried the hand to his mouth, evi
dently having drawn his pocket-knife and opened
a blade with his teeth. Instead of untying the
bonds on his other hand and ankles he had con
cluded that the quickest and quietest way was to
cut them.
After replacing his right hand in its former po
sition on the wheel, watching Jack closely for a
moment, and listening intently to our steady, hard
breathing, he quietly reached over with the knife
in his free hand and cut the string that held his left
wrist to the wheel; then replacing both hands on
the wheel again for a moment as if tied, he looked
79

THE WOLF HUNTERS
earnestly at Jack and then turned an ear toward
our tent door.
Assured by our snoring that we were all asleep,
he reached down and cut the cords that held his
ankles, after which he gave another earnest look
at Jack, took a step out from the wheel, and no
doubt intended to steal quietly out to his horse
and mount him; but as soon as he started from
the wagon the dog gave an angry growl and sprang
the length of his chain toward the escaping jay
hawker. Knowing that his flight would now be discov
ered, Tucker quickly darted around the wagon,
to get out of the range of Jack's shotgun, with
Found lunging on his chain and barking furiously.
Jack sprang to his feet, calling to the fugitive,
"Halt! halt!" as he rushed around the wagon,
followed by Tom and me, only to see the form of
the jayhawker disappearing rapidly in the dark
ness. Still calling out "Halt! halt!" Jack let off
one barrel after another of his shotgun, but high
over the head of the retreating ruffian, merely to
accelerate his speed. Tucker made no attempt to
get his horse and was probably only too glad to
get away with a sound carcass.
After chasing him out on the prairie a little way,
calling excitedly to one another to mount and fol
low the fugitive and try to head him off at some
point toward the jayhawkers' camp — all to im
press Tucker, in case he heard us, of the earnest-
80

TOM'S STRATEGY
ness of our pursuit and our anxiety to recapture
him — we returned to our tent to chuckle over the
success of Tom's strategy.
"Tain't likely," observed Tom, "that he'll fool
away time hanging around here to try to get his
horse. He's scared bad, for sure, an' no doubt
b'lieves every word of that yarn I got off about the
company of cavalry; but, to be on the safe side,
Jack, you'd best bring the black horse up here an'
tie him to the wagon wheel that his former master
jest vacated, an' then turn Found loose, an' I'll
guarantee no prowler'll come nigh our camp with
out our gettin' due notice of it."
"Holy smoke," exclaimed Jack, still comment
ing on the jayhawker's escape, "didn't he run!
When I run 'round the wagon after him I could
have shot him easy, ef I'd wanted to, fer he lost
so much ground a-zigzaggin' as he run, to keep me
from hittin' him when I shot, that he hadn't got
very far ahead of me. But after I let off both bar
rels of the shotgun he struck a bee-line fer the
timber, only hitting the ground in high places.
He'll lose no time in getting back to his camp an'
rousing up his men an' telling 'em about the com
pany of cavalry that's comin' after midnight to sur
round their camp an' hang or shoot every moth
er's son of 'em. What a time the half-drunken
robbers'll have a-saddling up in the dark an' get-
in' away from there in a hurry. They'll put as
many miles as they can between them an' their ol'
81

THE WOLF HUNTERS
camp before that company of cavalry surrounds
'em." After carrying out Tom's orders we all turned
in and slept till daylight, when the veteran's
usual morning call brought back the recollection
of the recent exciting incidents.
After breakfast Tom rode over to the store to
see what he could learn of the jayhawkers.
Before he started: Jack asked, "Tom, what are
we to do with Tucker's horse?"
"Why, Jack, ef no more rightful owner than
Tucker turns up to claim him the horse is fairly
yours by right of capture."
"I've been thinkin' it over," said Jack, "an'
come to this conclusion: We know that these jay
hawkers make a business of robbing people, taking
all the good horses an' mules they come across; it's
more'n likely that this Tucker has stole this fine
horse from somebody hereabouts, an' I think the
square thing to do will be to leave word with the
ol' storekeeper that in case any man comes along
claiming the horse, an' can prove his property,
we'll give him up to the rightful owner. If the
owner should show up in a day or two he can
follow us up, prove ownership, an' take his horse.
Ef he shouldn't show up until after we've got out
to our winter's camp, or well on the road toward
it, we'll leave word with the storekeeper to say
that we'll be comin' back this way in the spring
an' we'll fix the business up then."
82

TOM'S STRATEGY
"Good idea, Jack," said Tom. "I guess that'll
be as good a plan as any to settle about the own
ership of the horse, an' we'll leave it that way."
"As to the horse being mine," added Jack, "in
case no owner turns up, I don't look at it that
way. This is a partnership concern, I take it, an'
everything belongs to all hands. But that horse
is a dandy. I was out brushin' him off a bit ago,
an' I haven't laid a currycomb on a finer animal
this long time. He's young — only six years old —
well built, clean-limbed, got good action, fine car
riage, sound as a dollar, an' I'll warrant he can
run a good lick, too."
As Tom started off, instead of following the road
he took a course across the prairie that would
bring him to the creek some distance from the
regular ford, thus, instinctively, as it were, follow
ing out an old frontier scouting rule by which we
were taught that in travelling a probably danger
ous road one should avoid the regular crossing of
a timbered creek as a precaution against being
ambushed. About the middle of the forenoon Tom made
his appearance and soon joined us.
In response to our eager inquiries for news he
replied :
"Good news. Our strategy won the game.
The whole gang, lock, stock, an' barrel, lit out
from their ol' camp last night about midnight, an'
went in a hurry, too. Judging by the signs an'
83

THE WOLF HUNTERS
what a man told us who heard 'em gittin' away
across the prairie, they must have been scared.
Now, let's hitch up an' strike the road again an'
try to make up some of the time we've lost here —
for we've been knocked out of nearly a day's drive
by these jayhawkers. I'll tell you all about it
as we go along."
We soon had our team strung out and were
again rolling along the old Santa Fe road, Jack
and I on the wagon seat, with Tom riding the
black horse alongside and giving us the particulars
of his visit to the store.
"When I got to the store," he said, "early as it
was, I found a farmer there who lives down near
where the jayhawkers have been camped an' who
had come up to report that some time before
midnight he had heard considerable commotion in
their camp, an' shortly afterward heard a wagon
an' some mounted men pass not far from his
house, goin'' southward across the prairie. He
supposed that the gang was breaking camp an'
moving away, but couldn't understand why they
should light out so sudden an' at such an hour.
When daylight come he visited the abandoned
camp an' there saw plenty of signs that they'd
gone in a hurry. They left clothin', lariats, an'
other camp equipage scattered about that they
had failed to gather up in the dark.
"Well, when I got to the store the farmer an'
the storekeeper was all worked up an' tickled at
84

TOM'S STRATEGY
the going of their unwelcome neighbors; an' their
astonishment was greater still to see me ridin'
Tucker's fine black horse an' saddle, which they
all seemed to recognize at first sight.
"To explain the situation to 'em, an' how I come
to be ridin' Tucker's horse, I had to tell 'em all
about the jayhawkers comin' to our camp to try
to bluff us out of our mules, an' how we stood
'em off; an' about Jack capturin' the big duffer;
an' how we made a 'spread eagle' of him an' give
him a good scaring up with that yarn of the com
pany of cavalry coming; an' how we give him a
chance to get away; an' how he got.
"I told the storekeeper what Jack's plan was,
in case an owner for the black horse should turn
up; but he don't think the horse b'longs to any
one in this part of the country; an' ef anybody
comes 'round inquiring for such a horse he's to
write to me at Fort Larned.
"The ol' feller was dreadful uneasy for fear the
jayhawkers would find out that we'd gone on out
to the plains an' that there was really no com
pany of cavalry behind us and then would come
back. But I tol' him not to worry about that,
for I believed there would be a company of cav
alry here from Fort Leavenworth before long in
answer to that letter he had written to General
Hunter. "I put another idea into his head, tellin' him
that he could help the soldiers to capture or break
85

THE WOLF HUNTERS
up the gang by havin' a man foller their trail an'
find out just where they locate. He took up with
the idea right away, an' the farmer said he'd fol
ler the trail. When he gets 'em located he's to
come back an' guide the soldiers to the jayhawk
ers' camp."
As we passed through the strip of timber at the
crossing of the little creek where the jayhawkers
had planned to get the drop on us we noticed
that it would have been an admirable place for
such a manoeuvre, and Jack and I commented on
the possibilities of an encounter with the enemy
here. "You're wastin' your wind," interrupted Tom
impatiently. "I had it all planned out to take a
by-road that leads off from the house where we
camped, which crosses the creek — so the store
keeper had told me — about a quarter of a mile
below this crossin', comin' into the main road
again in the prairie beyond. In that way we'd
have left the jayhawkers 'holdin' the sack,' like
the feller that went a-snipe huntin'."

86

CHAPTER IX
BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND
' I AHAT afternoon we reached Council Grove, on
*- the west bank of Neosho River. It was then
a place of less than a hundred and fifty inhabi
tants but an important business point — the out
post of Kansas settlements and the last town, going
westward, until Denver, Colorado, was reached.
Travellers going to the plains usually halted here
to lay in any requisites for their trip that might
have been overlooked in starting from the Mis
souri River and also for last repairs on wagons
and for horseshoeing.
The tires on our hind wheels had become a little
loose, and we decided to have them shrunk and
reset, so we camped by a blacksmith shop near the
centre of the village, and soon had the blacksmith
at our work, which he finished before dark.
Making an early start next morning, we rolled
out, nooned at Diamond Springs, fifteen miles
from the Grove, where there was but one family,
and at evening camped at Lost Springs, thirty
miles from Council Grove, where Jack Costillo's
ranch was the only habitation. So long as the
road and weather were fine we wished to make up
87

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the time lost in being delayed by the jayhawkers
and lengthened our drives accordingly.
We were now fairly launched on the plains and
would see little more timber and no habitations
of white men except an occasional trading ranch
at the crossing of some creek along the road. We
were nearing the eastern edge of the buffalo range.
The road from Fort Riley, that we had formerly
travelled in going out to the Arkansas River and
back, enters the Santa Fe road here at Lost
Springs. At this camp there was no timber and
no running water — merely a series of water-holes
strung along a prairie hollow. This had long been
a well-known camping ground; but where the
springs were from which it takes the name I
never knew, for I never saw any.
We pitched our tent near where the Fort Riley
road enters the Santa Fe and after supper at
tended to the usual camp work. After we had
groomed and fed our animals the Irishman and I
strolled up to the ranch to renew old acquain
tance with the proprietor, Jack Costillo, also an
Irishman, whom we had previously known as a
soldier in the Mounted Rifle Regiment in New
Mexico. Costillo was delighted to meet us again and, of
course, set out his best for us. We spent a couple
of hours very pleasantly talking over old times
with him and then returned to our camp. As we
walked along, thinking of the Italian name borne
88

BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND
by this man, who, as Jack said, "wore the map
of Ireland on his face," I remarked :
"When I hear such names as O'Shaughnessy,
Finnegan, or McCarthy given for an Irishman,
they seem natural and Irish enough, but now
and then I find an Irishman with what seems to
be a very un-Irish name, such as Costillo's, for in
stance. How do you account for these misfit
names, Jack?"
"Oh, that's 'asy," replied Jack. "You see, ould
Ireland is a sea-girt isle an' is visited by ships of
various nations, an' now an' then some foreign
sailor, in an Irish port, falls in love with an Irish
girl an' marries her, an' the childther, of course,
will bear the foreigner's name, though they be as
Irish as Paddy's pigs."
"Well, that is a reasonable explanation of a
question that has occasioned me a good deal of
speculation," I answered, "and, accepting your
solution of the problem, my mind will be much
easier in the future."
At these roadside ranches, which had sprung
up at every important camping place along the
road since the Pike's Peak gold discovery, liquor
was sold and a small general assortment kept of
such goods as were in demand by travellers.
No attempt was made to cultivate the soil or
raise crops; they were there merely for the trade
of the road and — at points farther out — for In
dian trade. They also bought worn-out stock
89

THE WOLF HUNTERS
from passing oufits and, after resting and re
cruiting such animals, sold them to other travel
lers needing fresh animals.
The Santa Fe mail contractors, Hall & Porter, of
Independence, Missouri, had established stations
at certain ranches, but beyond Council Grove there
were, as yet, no regular eating or lodging stations
for passengers in the mail-coaches. They had to
carry their own bedding and take camp fare with
the mail hands — two drivers and a conductor to
each coach.
At Cottonwood Creek, the next camp west of
Lost Springs, we began to see buffalo — a few
straggling old bulls at some distance from the
road — but as yet no herds. By the time we had
reached the Little Arkansas small bands became
more numerous and neighborly; and from there on
the herds grew larger, till by the time we reached
the vicinity of Fort Larned — much later — dense
masses of them were to be seen in every direc
tion. As far west as Lost Springs we found multi
tudes of prairie-chickens along the road and our
shotgun kept our mess supplied with fresh meat.
From Lost Springs westward we saw no more
prairie-chickens, but as we soon reached the
buffalo range we killed young buffalo or antelope.
In running buffalo we used the black horse,
Jack's capture, and although at first somewhat
shy of the brown, woolly monsters, he soon got
90

BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND
used to them and evinced keen interest in the
chase. In killing a buffalo for fresh meat we usually
selected a yearling or two-year-old, to insure ten
der meat, and cut out only a few pounds of the
choicest parts from the carcass, buffalo being so
plenty that we seldom thought of the wasteful
ness of this then common practice.
Antelope, the fleetest and most graceful animal
on the plains, could seldom be overhauled by
a mounted man, but their inquisitiveness was so
great that they would often, in herds of a dozen
or more, approach our camp through curiosity;
and if they did not come close enough to suit us,
by displaying a red blanket we could lure them on,
almost close enough to knock them over with a
stick. Their meat is tender and well flavored,
but at certain seasons there is little fat on it and
a little bacon cooked with it improves it.
Coming in from grooming the black horse one
day, Jack declared :
"The more I handle that horse the better I like
him. He's one of the best I ever rubbed a brush
over. I've been wondering who that jayhawker
could have stole him from an' dreading lest the
owner should follow us up an' claim his property,
in which case, of course, we'd have to give him
up." "Well, Jack," I replied, "it ain't likely that the
owner of the horse, whoever he may be, will ever
9i

THE WOLF HUNTERS
bother us; and when we hear from the old store
keeper, back where you got him, if no owner has
shown up there to inquire about him, then your
claim is the next best and he'll be your horse."
"No," said the impulsive Irishman, "ef we're
to git to kape him he's to be company property
— he'll belong to all of us."
"Well," put in Tom, "I've been thinkin' that
the black horse is entitled to a name, anyhow.
We've named the mules — or Wild Bill did — 'Dink'
an' 'Judy' an' the broncos 'Polly' an' 'Vinegar';
now, what'll we call the horse?"
"Why not call him 'Captain Tucker,' after the
jayhawker?" I suggested.
"No," promptly objected Jack, "it wouldn't be
treatin' the horse fair to call him after such a
scoundrel." "How would 'Black Prince' do?" proposed
Tom. "That suits me better. 'Black Prince' it shall
be." Passing successively Cottonwood Creek, Big
and Little Turkey Creeks, Little Arkansas, Jarvis
Creek, Big and Little Cow Creeks, we reached Big
Bend, the point where the Santa Fe trail, going
westward, first strikes the Arkansas River.
Before reaching Big Bend we noticed with un
easiness that the tires on our fore wheels were
becoming loose. At Council Grove, where we had
had the tires of the hind wheels shrunk and reset,
92

BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND
those of the fore wheels had seemed tight enough;
but since leaving there the woodwork of the fore
wheels had been shrinking more and more each
day, until now something must be done to tighten
them or we would soon have a broken-down
wagon. We had hoped to reach Fort Larned
before having to reset these tires, but from Big
Bend it was nearly two days' drive to the fort.
Seeing old Tom examining the wheels, I asked:
"Well, Tom, what are we going to do about it?
Hadn't we better take them fore wheels off and
throw them into the river overnight?"
"No," replied the old man, "that would only
help us for a day and by to-morrow night they'd
be dry as ever. We'll just give 'em a plains
man's shrinking, an' that's pretty nigh as good as
to have a blacksmith cut an' weld an' reset 'em.
We'll swell the felloes by puttin' canvas between
them an' the tires. The first thing is to unload
the wagon."
It was quite a job, but Jack and I soon had the
stuff all out and stacked up on the ground.
"Now, prop up the front ex an' take off the
wheels." This was soon accomplished.
"Now, while I knock off the tires you an' Jack
can get out your gunny sacks an' carry up a whole
lot of buffalo-chips an' pile 'em handy."
By the time we had done this Tom had taken
off the tires and laid them down, one on top of
93

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the other, raised a couple of inches off the ground
by stones placed here and there under them.
"Now pile your chips all round over the tires,
'bout a foot deep, an' then set 'em afire, an' the
breeze'll keep the fire a-boomin'; an' while the
tires is a-heating bring the wheels up here close by;
get that piece of old canvas out o' the wagon; cut
some strips from it long as you can git 'em, jist
the width of the felloes; get some of the tacks out
of the till of the mess-chest; put the canvas strips
on the outside of the felloes, draw 'em tight, an'
tack 'em here an' there as you go round the wheel
until you get about four thicknesses of canvas
on; then give the outside layer of canvas a little
wettin' so's it won't burn out afore we can git
the tire cooled off. Then lay the wheels down
handy to the fire, with a rock here an' there under
the rims to make 'em lay solid."
When this had all been done:
"Now get the shovel an' scoop out a little,
long hole in the ground close by an' keep it filled
with water. Bring the pick an' shovel an' spade
an' axe an' hatchet an' lay 'em handy. Then
fill all the buckets with water an' set 'em close
b^" The wind kept the circle of buffalo-chips that
covered the tires blazing briskly, and by the time
the chips were nearly burnt out we could see that
the tires were red-hot and knew that they had ex
panded enough to drop over the canvassed wheels.
94

BUFFALO NEAR THE BIG BEND
"Now," resumed Tom, "we'll have to work
lively an' make no mislicks when we drop a tire
over a wheel so's to get it cooled an' shrunk on
afore it burns out the canvas. We'll have to use
the pick an' spade an' shovel to lift 'em out o' the
fire an' drop 'em over the wheels. Peck, you
take the pick, Jack the shovel, an' I'll take the
spade. When all's ready I'll give the word, an',
Peck, you stick the point of your pick under the
top tire an' lift it up a little so's me an' Jack can
slip our shovel an' spade under it; then the three
of us'll lift the tire out of the fire an' lay it in its
place over the wheel an' then go to pourin' water
on, an' quick as it's shrunk enough to stay on
Jack'll run his shovel handle through the hole in
the hub, pry the wheel up, an' with one of you on
each side, a-holt of the shovel handle, you can
hold the wheel over the pool of water with the
lower rim in the water while I spin it 'round, an',
with axe in one hand an' hatchet in the other, I'll
hammer the tire to its place as it shrinks. Now,
do you men 'savvy' all them instructions?"
We "savvied," and, following Tom's directions,
we soon had both tires nicely reset and shrunk,
and it made a very substantial job. It was hot
and laborious work and gave us unusually keen
appetites for the supper that followed, which
Tom prepared, while Jack and I reloaded our
wagon.

95

CHAPTER X
WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
A FTER supper, as we lay on our beds in the
¦^ ^- tent talking over old times, Jack recalled to
my mind the Cheyenne campaign of 1857 and
how we used to gather wild plums in the sand
hills near where we were now camped. He spoke
also of a man bitten by a rattlesnake near here.
This called out a story from Tom, who said :
"Speakin' of rattlesnakes reminds me of a little
incident that happened out in New Mexico when
I was in the old First Dragoons. I was a ser
geant, an' we had a new recruit in the company
by the name of Nesbit — a mighty quiet sort of a
feller that the men called a 'stoughton-bottle,' or a
'bump on a log' — a good man for duty, only he
didn't make free with the other men or have
much to say to anybody. He had a fashion in hot
weather, when he was loungin' about camp off
duty, of goin' barefooted, with the bottoms of his
pants an' drawers rolled up several inches.
"One day, when we was camped on the Rio
Grande, water call had jest gone, an' we'd all
started out from our tents to water our horses
an' picket 'em out on fresh grass. I was walkin' a
few steps behind Nesbit when I heard the whiz-
96

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
whir of a rattlesnake in the direction of the man,
an' as I looked to'rds him I was horrified to see a
big rattler that seemed to have hold of one of his
ankles an' was a-jerkin' an' squirmin' an' wrap-
pin' itself all 'round his leg; but, as I found out
afterward, the snake had struck at his ankle an'
caught a mouthful of the roll of NesbitVtrousers
an' got his fangs tangled so's he couldn't git loose
but hadn't touched the leg at all.
"Well, sir, I was nearly paralyzed with fear
an' was tryin' to think of some way I could help
the man but didn't see how. He never said a
word, but just reached down as cool as ef he was
goin' to pluck a flower, grabbed the snake right
back of its head so close it couldn't turn to bite
bis hand when it got its fangs loose, then pulled
its fangs loose from the roll of his trousers an'
pulled the snake away from where it was wrapped
around his leg. It coiled itself around his arm
an' kep' its rattle a-hummin', and I couldn't
imagine how he was goin' to get rid of it without
gettin' bit.
"Well, it all happened quicker'n scat, an' while
I was a-tryin' to study out some way I could help
him out he knew just what to do an' was a-doing
it without asking anybody's help.
"He just reached for his belt with the other
hand, pulled his butcher-knife, sliced the snake's
head off clean — taking a slice out of his finger in
doing it, shook the snake loose from his arm an'
97

THE WOLF HUNTERS
dropped it, stooped down an' dug a little hole
with his knife, raked the snake's head into it an'
covered it up so's nobody would tramp on it with
bare feet an' get pizened, wiped his knife on his
britches' leg an' returned it to the sheath, tore a
piece off his ol' hankercher an' wrapped his cut
finger up, an' went on an' 'tended to his horse —
all without sayin' a word or makin' any fuss; an'
when I got my breath enough to say, 'Nesbit, that
was a close call,' he merely remarked indifferent
like: 'Yes, but you know a miss is as good as a
mile.' "It had all been done so quietly an' quickly
that the other men passin' by hadn't noticed
what was goin' on.
"Well, sir, I count that one of the coolest, grit
tiest things I ever saw done, an' when I got back
to camp I went an' told the orderly sergeant about
it, an' he had to go an' tell the captain; an' then
the captain sent for me, an' I had to tell him all
the particulars; an' when I got through all the ol'
man had to say was, 'He'll do,' but I could see
that the captain was mightily pleased with the
raw recruit.
"Well, the upshot of it was the next evenin' at
'retreat' the orderly sergeant published an order
to the company to the effect that 'Private Nesbit
is hereby appointed corporal an' will be obeyed
an' respected accordingly.'
'You see, the captain saw from that little affair
98

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
of the snake that Nesbit was something more than
a 'bump on a log,' an' so he give the man a lift
to start him, an' in a little while he was made ser
geant; an' then, when the ol' orderly sergeant's
time was out an' he was discharged, Nesbit was
made first sergeant right over the heads of us old
hands who'd been in the service a heap longer.
But he deserved it, an' I never begrudged him the
promotion, for he made one of the best orderly ser
geants I ever knew — always the same quiet, cool,
nervy Nesbit."
"I always told you," remarked Jack, "that it
won't do to set a man down for a fool 'cause his
clo's don't fit him.
"Changin' the subject," said Jack, "it's about
five miles from here up to Charley Rath's ranch,
at the mouth of Walnut Creek; ain't it, Tom?"
"Yes; five miles to Walnut Creek, sixteen from
there to Pawnee Rock, eight miles from the
Rock to the crossin' of Ash Creek, six from Ash
Creek to Pawnee Fork, an' three miles, after
crossing Pawnee Fork, on up the creek will bring
us to Fort Larned, which is two miles and a half
off the Santa Fe road, but in plain sight of it."
"I was thinkin'," continued Jack, "about the
Walnut Creek ranch an' some o' the lively times
it's seen since I first know'd it. In '57, when we
come out here on the Cheyenne expedition, Allison
owned it. Many's the time the Injuns made life
a burden to Allison, but still he saved his scalp
99

THE WOLF HUNTERS
an' died on the square. In '58 he left his hired
man, Peacock, in charge of the ranch while he
took his teams an' went in to Westport, Missouri,
after goods. On that trip Allison died suddenly
at Westport, an', as he had no kinsfolk at the
ranch an' none ever come out to claim it, Peacock
jumped the claim an' held it as his own. He, too,
had some lively times with the Injuns an' was
finally killed by ol' Satank, in the summer of i860.
An' then Charley Rath jumped the claim an' still
holds it, but more'n likely he, too, will lose his
napper to some o' the Indians yet. It was near
the ranch, when Peacock had it, that Pawnee, the
Kiowa chief, was killed by Lieutenant Bayard;
wasn't it?"
"Yes," I replied, "I was in at the death and
had an opportunity to have done the killing my
self that day, but Lieutenant Bayard came up and
took the job off my hands. You see, I was one of
the first to mount and start in chase of the Indian
after he'd escaped from the ranch, mounted his
horse, and was racing across the level prairie north
of the ranch. I was riding that speedy little bay
horse that we called 'Greased Lightning,' that the
officers used in making races. I'd got the start of
Bayard and the rest, overtook the Indian in about
a mile and was right alongside of him, with Lieu
tenant Bayard coming up just behind me, and
when I called back to the lieutenant to ask whether
I should shoot the Kiowa he replied, 'No, let me
100

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
speak to him,' and I gave way and let Bayard
come in between me and Pawnee. Bayard called
on him a couple of times to halt, on the second
demand firing a shot in front of the Indian as a
warning, and when he found that the Indian
only jeered and made faces at him the lieutenant
reined in a little and let the Kiowa go ahead, and,
as he did so, dropped his pistol to Pawnee's back,
saying, 'Take it, then,' and let him have it — shoot
ing him through the heart. Pawnee threw up his
hands and fell off his horse dead."
"Well, by rights," said Jack, "you'd overtook
the Injun first an' had the best right to have done
that job, but Bayard took advantage of his bein'
an officer over you to hog the honors."
"I didn't consider that there was any particu
lar honor in killing that Indian, under the circum
stances," I replied, "but I should have done so if
the lieutenant had said the word. But Bayard
seemed to think that the Indian would halt and
surrender on his demand, and when the Kiowa not
only refused to yield but defied him, why, there
was nothing else to do but to kill him. We
thought it strange at first that Pawnee should act
so defiantly when we had the drop on him, but
Peacock told us when we got back to the ranch
that this Indian carried a medicine or charm hung
around his neck that was supposed to protect him
from a white man's bullet, and when the lieuten
ant fired a shot and missed him he was sure he
IOI

THE WOLF HUNTERS
was bullet-proof; but Bayard's bullet killed him
so quick that he hardly had time to feel disap
pointed." "I don't know but what it was best, after all,"
remarked old Tom, "seein' that the Injun had to
be killed, for an officer to do it, for after that shot
the Kiowas started on the war-path an' caused
the loss of a good many lives of innocent people
an' give the troops a whole lot of trouble an' hard
service for a year or more afterward. Ef it had
'a' been an enlisted man fired that shot he'd 'a'
been court-martialled an' punished, more'n likely,
instead of being honored. So I guess Peck lost
nothin' by it, for Bayard was sharply reprimanded
an' had to do a whole lot of explaining to get out
of trouble for that little job. As to the killing of
Pawnee bein' the real cause of the Kiowa out
break, that was the idea that some fool people
back East got of it; but none of us ever believed
that, for we knew from the actions of ol' Satank
an' his band for some time before that, they was
bound to go on the war-path with or without
provocation, an' they seized on the killin' of one o'
their chiefs as an excuse for turnin' loose on the
Pike's Peak emigrants an' others along the road."
"You'll remember," said Jack, "that I wasn't
with you the next summer on the Kiowa expedi
tion, for I'd been left back at Fort Riley, in the
hospital, but I know Peck an' you" — speaking di
rectly to Tom — "was both with Major Sedgwick's
102

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
command in this part of the country when Pea
cock was killed; an', as I've heard two or three
different stories about that affair, I'd like to know
the straight of it. Tell me jist how it happened."
"Well, sir," began old Tom as he raised up and
began whittling another pipeful of tobacco, "I
can give you the straight facts about that scrape,
for I got 'em from Charley Rath an' the sick man
— you know at the time Satank killed Peacock
there was a man sick in bed in the ranch that the
Injuns never touched, an' he was the only one of
Peacock's men left alive, 'cept Wild Bill an' John
Adkins, an' they was away from the ranch some
where. After peace was made with the Kiowas
an' they got to comin' around to the Walnut Creek
ranch to trade ag'in, Charley Rath was runnin'
it, an' he got all the particulars about it from the
Indians who was with Satank when he killed Pea
cock. So I think I got it pretty straight.
"You'll remember that we — that is, Major Sedg
wick's command of four companies of First Cav
alry from Fort Riley — had been chasin' the Ki
owas 'round over the plains all summer, but hadn't
been able to get a fight out of 'em 'cept that little
scrimmage our detachment of forty men under Jeb
Stuart had with Satank an' a little bunch up north
of Bent's Fort, where we killed eight of 'em an'
captured all their women an' children an' packs.
"Captain Sturgis, with four companies from
Fort Arbuckle, had also come up into this country
103

THE WOLF HUNTERS
on the same errand as us — huntin' the Kiowas —
an' he'd had better luck, for he caught 'em up on
the Republican Fork an' had a nice little fight
an' killed a whole lot of 'em.
"I'm givin' you all this preamble to give you a
clear idee of the situation that led up to the killing
of Peacock. There was a slight split among the
Kiowas durin' this war, for ol' To hausen — Little
Mountain — their head chief, with a few of the
cool-headed older warriors of the tribe, had re
fused to join Satank an' the hostiles in makin' war
on the whites, an' To hausen, with his little band,
had kept out o' the way for fear of bein' mistaken
by us for the hostiles. But the biggest part of the
tribe, under the leadership of Satank an' Satanta
an' Big Tree, was a-doin' their level best to wipe
out every white man, woman, an' child on the
plains. "Satank was the recognized leader of the hos
tiles an' was always very bitter in his hatred of
the whites.
"As our two commands, Sturgis's an' Sedg
wick's, had kep' him on the jump purty lively
durin' the summer, an' he'd got the worst of it all
'round, 'long in the last of August or fore part of
September, I think it was, Satank seemed to con
clude — as the time was soon coming when the
Injun agent at Bent's Fort would be a-giving out
the annuities that Uncle Sam sends out every fall
to the peaceable Injuns — that he'd better make a
104

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
treaty with Major Sedgwick for the winter, any
way, so's him an' his band could come in for their
share of the presents. So he applied to Peacock
for a letter of recommendation to Major Sedgwick,
thinkin' that a letter from such a prominent trader
would help him to make easy terms with Sedgwick.
"Well, sir, right there's where Peacock made
the blunder of his life, an' it cost him his life,
too. Peacock was a pretty smart man an' was ac
quainted with nearly every Kiowa in the tribe, an'
it's hard to understand how he could be so fool
ish as to do the way he did. But Satank an' his
band had made him a heap o' trouble durin' this
last outbreak, an' now Peacock thought he saw a
chance to even up with his old enemy. So, instead
of writin' a letter to Sedgwick askin' mild treat
ment an' makin' excuses for Satank an' his scalp
ers, he wrote one reading something like this:
Major Sedgwick,
Commanding Kiowa Expedition :
The bearer of this is Satank, the leader of the hostile
Kiowas and the instigator of all, and the actual per
petrator of many of the atrocious murders and outrages
that have been committed on innocent men, women,
and children on the plains during this last outbreak.
He is, by long odds, the worst Indian on the plains, and
you can't do the country a greater service than to kill
him on sight. (Signed) Peacock.
"Here was the unaccountable part of Peacock's
folly. He certainly knew that that low-down rene-
105

THE WOLF HUNTERS
gade Englishman that they called 'English Jim'
was living among the Kiowas at this time; but Jim
was a brute an' appeared to be so ignorant Pea
cock must have supposed either that the fellow
would be unable to read writing or else that Sa
tank would never doubt the genuineness of his
recommendation and would, therefore, take no
steps to test it. But there's where the trader
fooled himself.
"The Kiowas were camped across the Arkansas,
a few miles south from the ranch. Charley Rath
an' his pardner, George Long, had just begun to
build them a ranch-house here at the Bend, close
to where we are now camped, an' could see the
Kiowas passing back an' forth across the river.
"When Satank received the paper from Pea
cock he and a few men who was with him went
straight back to their camp, give the document to
'English Jim,' an' axed him to read it an' interpret
it into Kiowa, which he did.
"As soon as Satank heard the purport of the
paper an' understood the trick Peacock was trying
to play him, he an' the same gang mounted their
horses an' rode right back to Peacock's to settle
the account. On reaching the ranch, as an excuse
for their sudden return an' to keep Peacock from
suspecting what he was up to, Satank an' his men
never dismounted, but sat on their horses outside
the gate an' called to Peacock in Mexican — the
Kiowas an' Comanches can nearly all talk a little
1 06

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
Mexican — says he to Peacock, says he, 'Bring
your spy-glass out an' look down the road an'
see ef this is a lot of soldiers a-coming', — when
there was no soldiers in sight nor anything that
looked like 'em.
"Never suspecting the trap that Satank had
laid for him, Peacock come out with his long tele
scope an', resting it on the end of a log sticking
out at the corner of the house, begun looking
through it in the direction Satank pointed.
"While busy tryir g to focus the glass on a little
cloud of dust that Satank kept tryin' to point
out to him, the ol' rascal put the muzzle of his
rifle to the back of Peacock's head an' put a ball
through his brains. While Satank dismounted to
scalp Peacock his warriors rushed into the en
closure through the gate that Peacock had left
open as he come out, an' it was such a complete
surprise to the ranchmen that they were all soon
killed 'cept the sick man I spoke of. They found
him in bed but never offered to disturb him. I've
known of Injuns, several times, a-sparing sick peo
ple thataway, but don't know why, unless they
have a superstition ag'in harming sick folks.
"When Rath an' Long, down here at the Bend,
saw the Kiowas going back across the river,
a-drivin' Peacock's herd, they begun to think
something was wrong, so they got out their spy
glass, took a close look, an', although the Injuns
was two or three miles away, could see that they
107

THE WOLF HUNTERS
had a lot of the ponies packed with what seemed
to be some of Peacock's goods. This made 'em
suspect that the Injuns had captured an' plun
dered the ranch, ef they hadn't killed Peacock an
his men; so they dropped their work, mounted
their horses, an' went a-flying up to Peacock's to
see what was up, an' found all hands killed 'cept
the sick man, an' he told 'em what little he'd seen
an' heerd of the fracas, from where he lay in bed,
not bein' able to get out, an' how after killing the
other men the Injuns had come to the open door
of the room where he lay helpless an' fully expect
ing to be murdered, an' how surprised an' glad he
was when they turned away without disturbin' him.
"Peacock had left no heirs on the place, an'
there was no one in this part of the country that
had any claim on it, so Rath an' Long decided to
abandon the ranch they had just begun to build
here at the Bend an' move up an' take possession
of Peacock's place, jumping the claim, same as
Peacock had done after Allison died. An' Rath
is holding it yet, but George Long quit the busi
ness an' went back to the settlements — got scared
out, I guess. Charley Rath — barring the everlast
ing danger from Injuns — has got a bully good lay
out in that Walnut Creek ranch, both for trade
of the road an' for Injun trade, for there he gits
part of the trade of Kiowas, Comanches, Chey
ennes, an' 'Rapahoes; but it's more directly in the
Kiowa range than the others." 108

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK
"Well, Tom," I asked as the old man seemed
to be at the end of his yarn, "as the Kiowas are
now living under a treaty, do you think their
friendship is to be depended on?"
"I wouldn't feel a bit uneasy in the neighbor
hood of ol' To hausen's band, for him an' his fol
lowers has kept faith with the whites right along,
through all the late troubles. He's one of the few
good Injuns. But his band is a small part of the
tribe now though he used to be their head chief.
Most of the Kiowas follow the lead of Satank now,
an' you know Satank hates a white man as the
devil hates holy water, an', although he may keep
the peace for a while, it ain't to be depended on.
I would never feel perfectly safe in the neighbor
hood of Satank's band. An' then Satanta an' Big
Tree run with him, an' they're as bad as Satank."
"What I was thinking of," I added, "is that the
winter camp we're intending to establish, north
of Fort Larned, will be right in the range of the
Kiowas, and if they should happen to find our
layout in the course of the winter they might
make trouble for us."
"Well, we won't borry any trouble on that
score. We knew there was a risk to run afore we
undertook the expedition. When a man goes into
the country of hostile or doubtful Injuns he takes
his risk. But at this time of the year the chances
are that we won't see any Injuns, 'cause they gen
erally hole up in as snug shelter as they can find
109

THE WOLF HUNTERS
in winter an' don't ramble about much. An'
then, ag'in, we'll not be more'n twenty miles from
Fort Larned, and they'd hardly dare to disturb us
ef they should find our camp."

no

CHAPTER XI
WE REACH FORT LARNED
u,^J"OW, men," said old Tom as we gathered
¦*¦ ^ around the mess box for breakfast next
morning, "we want to get an early start for we've
got a big drive before us. It's only about thirty-
eight miles from here to Fort Larned, but that's
too much to do with a load in one day; an' we
can't divide the distance equally because there's
no water anywhere nigh the half-way p'int. By
takin' the river road we could get water to camp
at the half-way station, but that route, by way of
the mouth of Pawnee Fork, would take us four
miles out of our way, an' part of it's a sandy,
heavy road for the team. So I've concluded it'll
be best for us to go the main road by Pawnee
Rock an' camp at Ash Creek. That'll make
about twenty-nine miles for to-day's drive, an'
then we'll only have nine miles to-morrow mornin'
to knock off to reach the fort. We can easy do
that by the middle of the forenoon, an' have the
rest of the day to look up some old acquaintances
there an' make some inquiries about the best
p'int over on Walnut to locate our winter camp
an' how best to get there. Ef French Dave, the
in

THE WOLF HUNTERS
interpreter, is at Larned he'll tell us all we want
to know about it. If Wild Bill was here, he'd go
right along an' guide us to a snug place for our
camp, 'cause he knows every foot o' the ground.
It's all open prairie from Pawnee to Walnut, an'
once we get across Pawnee Fork we can't miss it
ef we just follow the buffalo trails."
We rolled out from Big Bend by sunrise, made a
short stop at Rath's ranch to renew old acquain
tance with Charley, and in the evening camped at
the crossing of Ash Creek, a small stream with a
little timber along its banks.
We reached Fort Larned by ten o'clock next
morning. I left Tom and Jack to inquire for mail,
while I went to the adjutant's office to report our
arrival and destination; after which I rejoined the
outfit at the sutler's.
"Well, now, men," said old Tom, gathering up
the mail matter and putting it away in the wagon,
"we must first hunt a camp, an' then we can
spend the rest of the day reading our papers an'
letters an' rounding up old acquaintances about
the garrison an' getting ready to go on to Walnut
Creek in the mornin'. I'm told that we can get
pretty good grass by crossin' the creek here an'
going half a mile up on the other side. We'll go
an' make camp an' eat dinner, an' then, leaving
one man to take care o' camp, the others can come
back and take in the garrison."
A little crowd of idlers had gathered around our
112

WE REACH FORT LARNED
team. A soldier volunteered to guide us to a good
crossing and camp, and we soon had our animals
turned out and tent pitched, and, while Tom and
Jack were getting the dinner, at their request I
overhauled first the letters and then the papers,
reading to my comrades the most interesting
items as I came to them.
The papers and magazines were full of exciting
and interesting news concerning the progress of
the war, then just getting under good headway.
Of letters we got but few, the most interesting of
which to me was one from the girl I had left be
hind me and another from the old storekeeper
and postmaster back at the camp where we had
encountered the jayhawkers.
The storekeeper informed us that no inquiry
had been made for the black horse, and he did
not think it likely that there would be as he had
learned that Tucker and his gang had stolen many
of their best horses from over the border in Mis
souri and the black horse was probably one of
them. He also informed us that, following out the plan
suggested by Tom, his neighbor had trailed the
jayhawkers to their new camp down on the Neosho
River, near Emporia; that a few days after we
left a company of cavalry had arrived from Fort
Leavenworth, in answer to the letter he had writ
ten to the commander of the department, looking
for the gang of outlaws, and the man who had fol-
H3

THE WOLF HUNTERS
lowed them and located their camp guided the
soldiers to the jayhawkers' new layout, where the
cavalrymen succeeded in surrounding and captur
ing the whole gang and taking them as prison
ers to Fort Leavenworth.
"Well, who's going to mind camp, an' who's
going over to the fort?" said Jack when dinner
was over.
"We'll draw straws for it," said Tom decisively.
"Peck, you prepare the straws, two long ones an'
a short one, an' the man who gets the short one
stays." I did as directed. Tom and Jack drew the long
straws, and I got left.
"Well, rack out now, you fellows, and I'll have
a good time reading the papers while you're gone,"
said I, trying to console myself for the lonesome
afternoon I expected to have.
But I was not left alone long, for presently a
couple of strolling soldiers from the garrison
dropped in, and we passed some time in exchang
ing information, I giving them the latest news
from the settlements, and they telling the gossip of
Fort Larned and vicinity.
We had not been out of sight of herds of buffalo
since we had entered the range till we crossed
Pawnee Fork, but here, near the fort, where they
had probably been hunted more than elsewhere,
they were scarce, though this was about the centre
of their range east and west. The soldiers said
114

WE REACH FORT LARNED '
that a few miles out in any direction we would
find them numerous again.
To my comrades and me the country about
Fort Larned was familiar ground. As already
stated, our company — K of the old First Cavalry,
afterward changed to Fourth Cavalry — had built
and occupied the original military post, called
"Camp Alert," in the adjoining bend of the
creek, below Fort Larned, in the fall of '59, when
the Kiowas were on the war-path. During that
winter we had been stationed there, escorting the
Santa Fe mails and giving what protection we
could to travel on the roads to New Mexico and
the Pike's Peak gold region. By the following
spring (i860), the War Department had ordered a
permanent post established at or near "Camp
Alert," to be called Fort Larned. This post was
built by the two companies of Second Infantry
that were sent to relieve us, while we, joining
Major Sedgwick's command from Fort Riley, went
on the Kiowa expedition.
My two years of hard service along the Arkansas
gave me an interest in everything that had hap
pened in this part of the country, and I kept my
soldier visitors plied with questions about persons
and events until the approach of sunset warned
them to return to the post to prepare for dress
parade. Tom and Jack remained at the garrison till after
dress parade and then joined me in time for the
supper which I had prepared.
H5

THE WOLF HUNTERS
In narrating the results of his inquiries at the
post Tom said :
"As we had all been pretty well acquainted with
Weisselbaum when he used to keep the little store
in Ogden, near Fort Riley, before he got to be
sutler of this post, I thought I would first call on
him an' renew old acquaintance. When I tried
to remind him who I was an' the many times I
had been in his store at Ogden an' bought goods
of him he couldn't remember me at all. An'
then I asked him if he remembered Jack an' Peck,
tellin' him that you was both here with me an'
the object of our trip an' so forth, but he couldn't
recall either of us an' looked at me kind of sus
picious like, as though he was afraid I was goin'
to ask him to credit me for a plug of tobacco or
something of that kind.
"To set him straight on that point I called for
a couple of cigars, an' in paying for 'em I managed
to show several greenbacks, an', my, what a
change come over his countenance when he saw
that money! The sight of them greenbacks at
once refreshed his recollection.
"He suggested that we should leave our surplus
money in his safe, and I believe it's a good scheme,
for we'll have no use for money over on the Wal
nut, where we're going, an' we might lose it. Peck
might go over to the store now, takin' Jack along
for a witness, an' deposit our money with the sut
ler an' take a receipt for it; an' if we have occasion
116

WE REACH FORT LARNED
to draw any of it out at any time it can be en
tered on the back of the receipt. Savvy?"
We "savvied" and agreed to Tom's plan'.
"Weisselbaum told me," continued the old man,
"where to find 'French Dave,' an' Dave told me
that it's all plain sailing an' about twenty miles
from here over to Walnut in the nearest direction,
straight north; an' there'll be no rough ground
to get over except the head of Ash Creek, an'
there ain't much there. He says by bearin' a little
to the west of north we'll miss the breaks of Ash
Creek an' strike Walnut about the mouth of a
little creek putting into Walnut from the south,
where there's a snug place for a well-sheltered
winter camp, with timber on the north an' west;
an' I think that's just about the kind of a layout
we want to find."
"What does Dave say about the Kiowas?" I
asked. "He says they're peaceable so far, 'but always
keep your eye skinned,' sez he, 'whenever Satank
or Satanta, with their bands, come around.' But
of course we knew that."
Jack arid I hurried over to the sutler's store,
where we were very affably received by Weissel
baum, who shook us warmly by the hands and
now had no difficulty in remembering us. We
made our deposit, took his receipt, and returned
to camp. After reporting to Tom the result of
our trip, Jack remarked :
117

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Well, I don't know of any surer winnin' game
than a post sutler's job. It'll beat four aces an'
a six-shooter." "Right you are, my lad," chipped in Tom. "It's
a sure shot — dead open an' shut. Better'n a gold
mine, for there's little risk an' small loss compared
with the profits; for the post sutler on the frontier
just rakes in the money of officers, soldiers, citi
zens, Injuns, an' everybody. Besides havin' a
monopoly of all trade on the post reservation, he
generally has the inside track on forage contracts
an' the like."
"Do you mind old Rich, the sutler at Fort
Leavenworth?" asked Jack, "an' the dead oodles
of money he rakes in all the time ? An' he's been
sutler there so long, too, he must be as rich as the
Rothschilds. A queer duck is old Rich," he con
tinued reflectively, "or 'Kernel' Rich, I should
have said, for when you call him 'Kernel,' 'spe
cially if you salute him along with it, it pleases
him all over an' raises his opinion of himself about
five hundred per cent."
"Yes," replied Tom, "I remember one time
when several of us soldiers were a-standing around
old Rich's store door, an' among the lot was Bob
Chambers, of F Company. You know Bob al
ways had his cheek with him. Well, while we
were a-talking, Bill Shutts come out of the store
a-grumbling an' a-cussing. 'What's the matter,
Shutts?' asked Bob. 'Why, I'm expectin' a let-
118

WE REACH FORT LARNED
ter from home,' says Bill, 'an' when I asked that
old galoot if there was a letter for me, the old fel
low wouldn't look — never even asked me my name
— but just says, crabbed like, says he: 'No, nothin'
for you.' 'Now,' says Bill, 'I'll bet two dollars
an' sixty-five cents that there's a letter in there
right now for William Shutts, Esquire, from Dres
den, O., but I can't get it.'
'"Why, man,' says Bob Chambers, ' where' ve
you been all this time that you ain't got acquainted
with that estimable old gentleman, Kernel Rich?
You ain't onto the combination, that's all. Now,
I'll bet you the drinks for the crowd, down at old
mother Bangs's, that I'll go in the store an' ask
the kernel for a letter, an' although I ain't ex
pecting one, an' would be surprised if I got one,
the old kernel'll rush flying 'round behind the
counter a-trying to find me a letter. Now, lemme
show you how it's done,' sez Bob, a-buttonin' up
his jacket an' a-cockin' his fatigue cap up on
three hairs.
"We all followed him into the store to see the
performance. The old kernel was pacin' the floor.
By a 'left-front-into-line' movement Bob swung
himself into position in front of the kernel, halted,
come to 'attention,' bringing his heels together
with a crack, an' raised his right hand to the peak
of his cap as he asked : ' Kernel, is there any letter
in the office for me, sir?'
"Well, say — you ought to have seen the smile
119

THE WOLF HUNTERS
that come over old Rich's phiz as he fell all over
himself getting 'round behind the counter, asking
as he went: 'What's the name, my man?' 'Rob
ert Chambers, of F Company, sir,' says Bob, still
standing to 'attention.'
"Well, sir, the old kernel shuffled those letters
over two or three times a-tryin' his level best to
dig up one for Chambers, an' seemed awfully sorry
when he had to say, as he put them back in the
pigeonhole: 'No, nothing for you to-day, Cham
bers.' An' he was so sorry to disappoint Bob that
he reached over on the shelf an' handed out a plug
of tobacco, as he added, sort of regretful-like:
'But there's some of the best navy tobacco you
ever smacked your lips over.' 'No doubt of it,
kernel, for when you recommend a thing it's bound
to be first class, but unfortunately I'm dead broke,'
says Chambers. 'Oh, take it along,' says the old
man, as he pushed the plug across the counter;
'you can hand me the money next pay-day.' An'
he was so pleased with Bob's blarney that he
never even chalked it down to him; an' I'm dead
sure that Chambers didn't remind him of it when
pay-day come, for Bob wasn't built that way.
"As we started out of the store, Bob says over
his shoulder like for old Rich to hear, 'Kernel
Rich is one of the finest old gentlemen I ever
knew.' "When we got outside the store door again, Bill
Shutts remarked, as he gazed at Chambers in
1 20

WE REACH FORT LARNED
honest admiration 'Well, old pard, if I had your
cheek I'd never work another lick.' 'It's all done
by a slight turn of the wrist, as the magician says,'
said Bob; 'anybody can do it that knows how.
Now, let me tell you how to get that letter of
yours. Just go over to the quarters an' wash your
face an' hands for a disguise, black your boots, But
ton up your jacket, brace up, an' look brave; and
then go back to the store — by that time the old
man's forgot you ever asked for a letter — then ex
ecute a flank movement on him, like I did; be
sure to salute an' call him kernel, an' you'll get a
letter if he has to write you one.'
"An' by following Bob's advice Bill got his let
ter; an' it tickled him so't he called us together,
an' we went down to old mother Bangs's, an' he
set up the drinks on it, 'cause he said that trick
that Bob learnt him was worth a whole lot, if not
more."

121

CHAPTER XII
OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
"^[EXT morning at breakfast I said :
¦*- ^ "How was it, Tom, that when we were buy
ing our outfit at Leavenworth we forgot to get
a compass ? That is a pretty useful thing in trav
elling across the prairie, where there is no road or
trail to follow?"
"Well," replied Tom, "it would be handy to
have a compass, but we haven't got one and so
we'll have to do the next best thing, and thank the
Lord I have a good watch to run our course by."
"What!" I exclaimed. "Do you mean that you
can tell the points of the compass by a watch?"
And Jack chimed in: "I never heard of the like."
"If you live long enough, young fellows, you
may find out that there are some other things
you never heard of. Look here, I'll explain to
you how it's done," and Tom pulled his big sil
ver watch out of his pocket, opened it, and put
it on the table.
"You turn the watch so that the hour-hand
points to the sun; then measure just half-way to
the figure twelve on the dial in the shortest direc
tion, and that will be south. Of course, the oppo-
122

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
site point will be north, and you can tell east or
west. "If you get it firmly fixed in your mind that,
with the hour-hand of a watch pointing to the
sun, half-way between that and the figure twelve
in the shortest direction on the dial is south, you
can always get the points of the compass when
the sun is shining."
"Whoever taught you that watch trick, Tom?"
I asked. "First Lieutenant James E. B. Stuart, late of
G Company, First Cavalry, and now an officer in
the rebel army, learnt me that once when I was
out on a scout with him in the mountains and we
got lost," answered Tom. "It was cloudy and we
wandered about in every direction except the right
one, as lost men will do. After a while the sun
came out for a little while and I saw Jeb halt,
take out his watch, and look at the sun. Then he
said: 'Now, I have got it. The trail is off in this
direction,' pointing with his right hand, while he
held the watch in the left. Then he called to me :
'Come here, sergeant, and I will show you how to
tell north and south by a watch. It may be use
ful to you some day.' And then he explained it
to me, and many's the time it has been useful."
By the time we had everything packed up
after breakfast and the team strung out, the
sun was up and we started north.
We ran a fairly straight line, bearing a little to
123

Where Old Fort Larned Stood

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
the west, to the head of Ash Creek, which we
found here to be only a prairie hollow destitute
of water and timber. Before reaching Ash Creek
we had begun to see plenty of buffalo in every
direction except toward Fort Larned.
On reaching the high prairie north of Ash Creek
we could see away to the north the distant line
of timber that marked the course of Walnut
Creek. A heavy body of timber was seen right
ahead, and in line with our course, that Tom
rightly conjectured was at the mouth of the little
creek emptying into the Walnut, where French
Dave had told him we would find a suitable loca
tion for a winter camp. Toward this we directed
our course.
It was but little past noon when we reached
the edge of the timber near the junction of the
little branch and Walnut Creek, and we found
here an ideal spot for our purpose — a snug camp
and good hunting and trapping ground.
"We'll camp here for the night," said Tom as
he dismounted, "an' to-morrow we'll look the
neighborhood over thoroughly an' decide where
to pitch our permanent layout."
As we had found no water on the road we had
made this drive from Pawnee Fork without our
usual halt for noon and decided to have our din
ner and supper in one about the middle of the
afternoon. After turning out the stock, bringing
wood and water, and pitching the tent, while
125

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Tom was preparing the meal, Jack and I sepa
rately rambled off to do a little exploring of our
immediate neighborhood. In doing so I found a
prairie ravine, not far from our camp, in which
there was considerable standing water at a dis
tance of about three hundred yards from the tim
ber on Walnut Creek. I wondered at this water,
but on following the ravine down to the creek I
discovered a beaver dam built across the creek,
in which a number of the dome-shaped huts were
standing, and saw other evidences of the presence
of a populous colony of these industrious animals.
The water I had seen up the ravine was back
water caused by the dam.
At Tom's call of "grub pile" I hurried back to
camp to acquaint my comrades with my dis
covery, only to learn that Jack had found the
beaver dam before I had and, having rushed back
to the wagon, was now busy getting out our steel
traps preparatory to setting them for beaver.
As we sat around the mess-chest eating, Tom,
between mouthfuls, explained his ideas about the
establishing of our winter camp.
"This big timber here is in the right place to
shelter us from the northwest winds. We must
also remember that we've got to protect ourselves
and stock against a surprise by hostile Injuns. I
ain't looking for trouble of that kind, but it's
always best to be prepared for such emergencies.
So I think it'll be best to move out to the bank
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
of that ravine Peck spoke about, say two or three
hundred yards from the timber, which will still
furnish us good protection from the northwesters.
In case of hostilities the water in the ravine can't
be cut off from us. Into the banks of that ravine
we'll dig our dugouts — one for ourselves, on one
side, and a stable for the stock on the other side,
opposite and facing each other. We'll cut and
split some slabs in the timber and lay a sort of
a floor across the ravine, for a gangway, and it'll
be as handy as a pocket in a shirt.
"Now, Peck, while Jack goes to set his traps
for beaver, suppose you saddle up Black Prince
and go out and kill a buffalo calf or yearling and
bring in a quarter or so of fresh meat. And, as
there's plenty of time yet before night, while
you're at it you may as well make a complete
circuit of the camp, say about a mile or two out,
and see if there's anybody or any sign of anybody
in this neighborhood besides ourselves."
"Tom," I said, "I believe it would be better
for me to go out and kill a yearling first and bring
in some meat and then take a ride around the
country afterward; for if I kill the yearling first
and leave the carcass till I make the circuit of the
camp the wolves will get away with the meat
before I get back to it; and if I make the round
first before killing our meat I'll be scaring all
the near buffalo away."
"You're right," replied the old man; "do as
127

THE WOLF HUNTERS
you say. I'm glad to see that you do a little
thinking of your own once in a while."
"And I believe I can kill two birds with one
stone," I continued, "by taking some strychnine
along and baiting the remains of the yearling
after I cut off the hind quarters, and in the morn
ing I'll have a few coyotes to skin to give us a
start in business."
"That's a good idea, too; but don't fool away
too much time, for I want you to make that round
of the neighborhood before night."
As I got our package of strychnine out of the
wagon, opened it, and took out one of the phials
to put in my pocket, Tom suggested:
"You'd better open that bottle here an' put
in a little water to dissolve the crystals; you'll
find it's easier to handle in liquid than in crystals,
and also more savin'."
Tom's suggestion was a good one and I did as
he advised. Then hanging the hatchet and field-
glass to my saddle, I mounted and rode away.
Crossing the creek just below the beaver dam,
where Jack was already looking out locations for
his traps, I rode through the timber to look for
the most convenient band of buffalo, and espied
one that suited my purpose about a mile down
the prairie bottom, strung out in single file on the
trail, coming in to the creek for water.
Recrossing the creek so as to keep out of their
sight behind the timber, I rode down to a point
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
that would intercept them and prepared to await
my game. The place I had chosen to wait for
them was an old buffalo crossing, the converging
trails, deeply worn in the banks on either side,
showing that it was much used. They would have
to pass me here, and, again recrossing the creek
to "the north side, I rode down into the timber,
tied my horse behind some bushes, and returned
afoot to the crossing, being careful not to give the
buffalo my wind.
Soon they passed me, went on down, drank, and
climbed the hills on the other side of the stream.
As the young cattle filed past me I selected a
yearling and, as he came opposite, shot him, and
he dropped dead in the trail. The rest gave a
jump or two and went on. I cut off the hind quar
ters and with some trouble put them on Prince.
Then stripping back the skin from the fore
quarters, I applied my solution of strychnine, a
few drops here and there over the meat and en
trails, and left them for wolf bait.
Having left my meat at camp, I rode away on
my scout, reaching camp again about sunset.
Just after we finished supper the howling of
a pack of coyotes — which we seldom noticed —
prompted me to exclaim:
"Make the most of your time, my lads, for if
you happen to scent that bait I put out for you
I'll be skinning some of you in the morning."
The howling and barking of wolves was such
129

THE WOLF HUNTERS
familiar music to us that it seldom provoked re
mark, for we had scarcely passed a night since
entering the buffalo range that we had not been
serenaded by the shrill, discordant notes of the
coyote, varied occasionally by the deeper bass of
the big, gray buffalo wolves, or "lobos," as the
Mexicans call them.
Next morning Jack and I hurried through the
work of watering and changing the animals to
fresh grass, while Tom prepared breakfast. We
were impatient to be off, and after the meal, tak
ing our rifles in addition to revolvers, we started
out to our respective tasks, Jack afoot and I on
Black Prince.
As I approached my wolf baits I disturbed a
couple of coyotes — probably late comers that had
but recently found the carcass, for they certainly
gave no evidence of the effects of strychnine as
they loped off on the prairie a little way and there
sat on their haunches licking their chops and
watching me as though reluctant to leave their
feast. I tied Prince a few rods away from the bait, of
which but little remained, while I walked about
through the tall grass, looking up the dead wolves,
three of which I noticed lying by the bait before
dismounting. On looking about I found five more,
at varying distances from the carcass, none of
them more than a hundred yards away. Some of
them were still warm. 130

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
I put down the rifle, drew my knife, and went
to work. Having had considerable experience in
skinning wolves, I was quite expert at it and soon
had the eight pelts stripped off the dead coyotes
and rolled up together ready for tying on behind
my saddle.
The process of skinning was simple. I turned
the wolf on his back and with the point of my
knife split the skin from the point of the chin
down the throat and belly to the root of the tail;
then split the inside of each leg from the foot to
an intersection of the first, or belly cut; then
stripped back the skin from belly, legs, and sides.
The tail was then slipped off the bone whole, with
out splitting, in this way: strip the skin of the tail
away from the bone for about an inch at the root;
then slip a split stick over the bone, take an end
of the stick in each hand, clamping the bone
tightly, and give a jerk toward the end of the
tail. The bone slips out of its skin as if it were
greased. When it came to tying the skins on behind the
saddle, Prince objected very strongly, and I was
compelled to blindfold him before I could accom
plish the job. After I had mounted, Prince was
still nervous, but by coaxing and talking kindly
to him I soon got him reconciled to carrying the
burden. When I reached camp I found Jack jubilating
over three fine beavers which he had carried up
131

THE WOLF HUNTERS
from the creek. He was grumbling because he
had not put out more traps.
"Time enough," said Tom consolingly. "We've
now found out that there's plenty of 'em there and
can wait awhile. Their fur'll be getting heavier
an' better all the time."
He and Jack were finishing skinning the third
one as I dismounted and threw down my batch
of coyote pelts.
"How many did you get?" asked Jack.
"Only eight," I replied. "If I'd had time to
have killed and poisoned three or four buffalo in
different directions out around camp I'd 'a' got as
many as the horse could carry."
"Time enough for the wolves, too, by and by,"
said Tom.
"Now, men," said Tom after we had discussed
beaver and how to catch them, "while you were
out I went over to the ravine and found a good
place for our dugouts and measured and staked
off the ground where we'll dig 'em. After dinner
we can move camp over there close to the work.
And while I'm getting the grub ready you two
can water the horses and mules and be a-making
a lot of little pins to peg your skins down to dry."
After dinner we moved camp close to the bank
of the ravine, where Tom had marked out the
ground for our winter quarters. On the opposite
bank he had staked out a site for a larger dugout
for a stable. The ravine here was narrow, and
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
by a good jump we could clear the water that
occupied its bottom. On top of the banks the
ground for some distance around was smooth
and level, bearing no other vegetation but the
short, nutritious buffalo-grass.
Pitching our tent in a convenient place for our
work, we turned out the stock, picketing the gray
mare and Prince. Tom was to ride the "buck
skin" bronco to look for a hay-field.
Jack and I soon had our coyote and beaver pelts
stretched and pegged down on a smooth piece of
ground. "I'll try to, get back," said Tom as he mounted
Vinegar, "in time for you men to go and put out
your baits for the night; and in the meantime,
while you're resting, you may as well get out the
pick and shovel and turn yourselves loose on them
dugouts, just to see if you've forgot how to work.
You'd better begin on the horses' stable and we'll
try to finish that up first, for if a "norther" should
catch us the stock'd be in a bad fix for shelter,
while our tent'd shelter us, all right."
In a couple of hours Tom returned, reporting
that he had found, in a bend of the creek just
below us, a large bottom that would afford us all
the hay we would want.
"Now, men," he said as he unsaddled and
turned out the bronco, "we've got lots to do
that's pressing us, and, as' the wolf poisoning and
beaver trapping ain't pressing and won't suffer
133

THE WOLF HUNTERS
any loss by waiting a few days, I've been thinking
that we'd better let the pelts go for a while and
put in all our time at haymaking and digging till
we get everything made snug for cold weather."
Tom's suggestion seemed so reasonable that we
agreed with him and decided to let the pelts alone
for a while.
Tom got his scythe out of the wagon and
"hung" it and then went down to the timber to
make a couple of wooden hay-forks. When he
had returned from the timber with his wooden
forks he remarked as he sat down and began
whittling the prongs to points and otherwise
smoothing them up with his knife:
"While I was at it I cut a lot of poles for a hay
frame to put on top of the wagon-box to haul
hay on; and I also cut some poles to lay on the
ground under our freight when we unload the
wagon." Later in the day we unloaded the wagon, piling
the contents on the poles inside the sideboards,
which we had taken off together, leaving the
bows on them. After the goods were thus piled
up the wagon-sheet was stretched over the bows
and securely tied down"" and the load was thus
protected from the weather.
Tired and very hungry after our hard day's
work, we devoured our supper and, after agreeing
to devote the next day to digging and haymaking,
were soon sound asleep. 134

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
After breakfast next morning Tom shouldered
the scythe and his rifle and set out for the hay-
field. When we had cleared away the breakfast
dishes Jack chose the pick-and-shovel work and
was soon making the dirt fly out of the hole on
the other side of the ravine, while I set to making
a hay frame of crossed poles on top of the wagon-
box, notched and lashed together and held in
place by strips of rawhide cut from the skin on
the yearling buffalo quarters. Now and then
on the still morning air, although about a mile
away, we could hear the "whick-whack" as Tom
whetted his scythe.
At nine o'clock Jack went to the hay-field to
help Tom, while I put on the dinner, to which I
called them by flag at noon. In the afternoon
they returned to their haymaking, and by eve
ning they had a nice lot of hay in cocks which
would do to haul and stack next day. After fin
ishing the hay frame I worked at digging in the
dugout. Buffalo were to be seen on the prairie all about
us, and now and then a few antelope made their
appearance, but we were too busy to spare the
time to go out and kill any. Flocks of water
fowl — wild geese, brants, ducks, and sand-hill
cranes — were seen and heard flying over and
sometimes alighted in the pond formed by the
beaver dam, and also seemed to come down at a
135

THE WOLF HUNTERS
point several miles down the creek, which indi
cated that there was a body of water there.
In the evening when the men had returned
from the hay-field we all stood for a while looking
down the valley and remarking on the appearance
of civilization imparted to the scene by the distant
flat dotted over with cocks of hay. But in the
morning at daylight, on again looking in that di
rection, we were filled with indignation to see that
during the night a herd of buffalo had preempted
our hay-field and had trampled, horned, and scat
tered all the nice cocks in every direction, and
were now bedded on the ground, probably chewing
their cuds in total indifference to our rights after
almost destroying the previous day's work of our
haymakers. "I'll make wolf bait of one of 'em for spite, so
I will," said Jack as he seized a rifle and started
down the hollow to get a shot.
"Don't kill more'n one, Jack, just enough to
scare them off," suggested Tom as the irate Irish
man sneaked off down the ravine, "for we don't
want our hay ground littered up with dead buffalo
and dead wolf carcasses."
For some minutes Tom and I stood watching
the buffalo to see what the Irishman would do for
them. They were all lying down in apparent per
fect contentment except one large bull. We kept
our eyes on the big bull and after a time saw the
huge beast drop, and immediately afterward the
136

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
report of the rifle reached our ears. The rest of
the buffalo jumped to their feet in alarm at the
sound of the shot, but, instead of running away,
stood staring at the timber from whence Jack had
fired; and had he desired to do so he could prob
ably have remained in concealment and shot
several more, for the buffalo do not readily take
the hint of danger till they can see the enemy.
Presently we saw the herd stampede, and at the
same time our Irishman made his appearance,
running out of the timber shouting and firing
another shot over them to give them a good scare.
"Our hay's ruined entirely," he said as he put
away his rifle and sat down to breakfast, "scat
tered all about and tramped over. Even what we
left in the windrows is all horned and tossed about.
We may be able to rake up some of it, but it'll
be hardly worth the effort. But I took me satis
faction out of that big fellow — I got a good broad
side shot at him and must have shot him through
the heart, for he dropped in his tracks. Peck had
better go down there this evening and put some
poison on the carcass, and be taking a few wolf
pelts, too, while we're a-haymaking."
"Well," said Tom, "we'll have to stand these
night-prowling buffalo off some way, and I think
the best way will be for Peck to mount one of the
horses just before night and ride 'round the neigh
borhood and drive off any herds that seem to be
heading toward our hay-field. I wouldn't kill
137

THE WOLF HUNTERS
any more of them at present, for we can't spare
the time to do much wolf skinning, but just stam
pede them and stand them off for a few days till
we get our hay cut and hauled; then you may go
for them, and the wolves, too. We don't often
have occasion to take the hide off a buffalo, but
I've been thinking it would be a good scheme to
skin a few of the first ones we kill till we get hides
enough to lay over the timbers on top of our dug
outs before we throw the dirt on, to keep the fine
dirt from sifting down on the inside; so, Peck,
you may as well take the hide off this one and
bring it up to camp when you go down there to
poison the meat for wolf bait.
"While Jack and I are mowing to-day you can
look out a suitable place along up the ravine here
above camp where we can make a crossing, and
dig down the banks a little, throwing the dirt into
the hollow so's we can cross the wagon over; and
while we're hauling hay we'll just leave the wagon
over on the other side of the draw. We'll stack
the hay, as we haul it, on the bank, close up to
the stable so's it'll be handy.
"And, mind you, that at no time and under no
circumstances must the camp guard leave camp."
"Have you seen any fresh signs, Tom, that
make you think there's Indians about?" I asked.
"Not a thing, but I want to keep you 'minded
with the idea that in this country 'eternal vigi
lance is the price of life, liberty, and the pursuit
138

Camp of the Wolf Hunters

THE WOLF HUNTERS
of happiness,' as the Bible says. We know how
tricky Injuns are, and, although we've seen no
fresh signs, a prowling party is likely to drop onto
us any time; and just think what a fix we'd be in
if they should happen to get into our camp and all
hands away. How completely they'd have the
drop on us! I'm not scared of them, nor trying
to scare you, but we've got to keep our eyes
peeled and be prepared all the time."
"All right," I replied with an air of more con
fidence than I really felt, "I guess Found and I
will be able to take care of camp."
"Of course," continued Tom reassuringly, "all
Injuns ain't hostile, but we've got to keep on the
safe side; and if a party of them approaches our
camp at any time, even if they profess to be
friendly, we must stand them off and never allow
more than a few — just what we feel sure we can
handle — to come into camp at a time; and even
then, always keep your eyes on them and your
arms and cartridges handy."
Leaving me with these cheerful subjects for
thought, the two men proceeded to their work.
After they left I moved our horses and mules
across the ravine where the dog and I could guard
them on one side, while on the other the two hay
makers would be some protection. During the
forenoon I worked at the banks of the gulch, a
little above our tent, to make a crossing for the
wagon. 140

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
In searching for the place for a crossing for the
wagon I discovered a little spring of water trick
ling out of the bank a few steps above our dug
outs. It was only a weak vein, but by digging a
pit under it, in which we planted an empty barrel,
we made a reservoir that furnished us an abun
dance of good water.
The discovery and improvement of this little
spring made our camp an ideal one. At first we
had expected to use backwater from the beaver
dam, but we soon realized that the trash from our
camp might render this water unfit for drinking
and cooking; and but for finding the spring we
should have been obliged to carry water from the
creek, which would have been laborious and in
convenient. When an occasional rain or melting snow flushed
out the trash in the ravine we could use that water
for our stock for a few days, but at other times
we watered them at the creek.
I felt more confidence in the protection afforded
by our shepherd dog than in all the measures we
were taking for the safety of our outfit. With the
natural instinct of his breed, Found spent most
of his time out with the stock, always selecting a
position on some elevation between our animals
and camp where he could see all that was going
on in our neighborhood; and I was satisfied that
neither friend nor foe could approach without his
giving notice. 141

THE WOLF HUNTERS
At noon when the men came in to dinner they
reported that they had raked up a good load of the
hay that had been scattered, and in the afternoon
they took the mules and wagon with them and
Tom brought the first load to camp on returning
in the evening, while Jack remained and began
skinning the dead buffalo. When I joined him
we soon stripped the hide off, applied the strych
nine to the carcass, and left it for the wolves.
"First come, first served, will be the rule here
to-night," I remarked as we started to camp.
"The first wolves to reach the bait will probably
get laid out before they have time to get half
a feed, while those that come later may not get
strychnine enough to give them a bellyache."
"How many do you expect to find in the morn
ing?" asked Jack.
"Oh, about eight or ten for the first night will
be a pretty fair haul; but by to-morrow night I'll
poison the bait again, and by that time it ought
to catch more — maybe as many as twelve or fif
teen — for the scent of the dead buffalo will then
attract them from a greater distance."
I did even better than I anticipated, for next
morning I found thirteen dead wolves lying around
the bait awaiting my skinning knife. Jack re
mained in camp until I had skinned the wolves,
brought in the pelts and pegged them down to
dry, after which he took the team and went out
to the hay-field where Tom was mowing.
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
The dead buffalo only lasted for three nights'
baiting, by which time I had taken nearly fifty
pelts, some big gray wolves but mostly coyotes and
little yellow foxes. We killed no more buffalo for
wolf baits until the more important work was done.
Our haymakers were now making a good show
ing, bringing in and stacking a load at noon and
another at night, and in a week we had stacked
as much hay as we should need.
While doing duty as camp guard, I had put in
all my spare time throwing dirt out of our stable
dugout and had the excavation about completed.
While Jack and I were doing a little trimming up
inside and cutting a doorway through the wall of
dirt on the side next the ravine, Tom had gone
into the timber and cut and split a lot of poles
and slabs to support the roof of dirt.
First putting a small log, twenty-four feet long,
on the brink of each side of the excavation, to
serve as "plates" to rest the roof timbers on, we
then laid twelve-foot slabs and poles across from
side to side, as closely as they would fit, covering
the larger crevices with brush.
"Now," said Tom, stepping back to take an
observation of our work when we had reached
this point, "ef we had buffalo-skins enough to
cover it, to keep the fine dirt from sifting through,
we'd be ready to go to throwing the dirt on an'
soon have the horses' stable finished up so's we
could go to work on our own quarters."
H3

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Well, we can soon get them," I replied. "In
the morning Jack and I will go out and kill a few
buffalo and bring in the hides, and by to-morrow
night we can have this dugout about completed."
Next morning the Irishman and I saddled up
and started out to secure the hides. We could
have killed what we needed out of the first band
we struck, but, as I wished to use the carcasses
for wolf baits, we decided to distribute the baits
at different points about the camp and not less
than a mile from it.
We killed and skinned six bulls, making a com
plete circuit of our camp, and by noon had re
turned with the hides.
After dinner we spread enough of them over the
roof timbers to completely cover them and then
set to work shovelling on the dirt, making quite
a mound of it. This finished our stable, except
for the mangers and feed-boxes inside and making
a door of some kind to close up the opening we
had cut through the bank. This last Tom made
next day by a frame of poles on which was tacked
a buffalo-hide. This door was hung on rawhide
hinges. "Now, men," said the old man as we topped
out the dirt roof and smoothed it up, "we've a
snug shelter here for our stock in case of need,
but, of course, we won't put 'em into it till we
have to. As long as it's fair they'll do better out
on the buffalo-grass, as they've been doing. Our
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
stable, hay, an' grain will be our reserve for
stormy weather or when the grass is covered with
snow. We must still work hard till we get our
own winter quarters finished up, an' then let the
weather turn loose — we'll be ready for it."
Toward evening I made the round of the buffalo
carcasses and poisoned them for the night's catch
of wolves.
As we gathered around the supper table in the
evening I suggested :
"As I expect a big job of wolf skinning in the
morning, I guess I'll need help, and maybe I had
as well take Jack along with me and be breaking
him in."
"All right," replied the Irishman, "if Tom says
so, I'm your huckleberry. How many skins are
you going to get this haul?"
"Well, I don't know, but, putting it low, I ought
to find at least five or six around each bait, and
maybe twice that many, so you see, skinning,
bringing in, and pegging down thirty-five or forty
wolf pelts is no small job."
"Well, it'll take the two of you the whole fore
noon," said Tom ruefully, "but the wolfskins
must be taken care of — that's what we're here for.
Still, I'm mighty anxious to get the other dugout
done, so I guess you'd better not kill any more
buffalo for bait unless we need some more of their
skins to cover our dugout. These six will keep
you a-poisoning and a-skinning for at least three
145

THE WOLF HUNTERS
or four days to come, and all of that time there'll
not be much done on the dugout, for part of my
time'll be taken up doing the cooking an' camp
work. But go ahead with your wolf killing, for
every pelt cured is as good as six bits or a dollar
in pocket at the least calculation."
After an early breakfast next morning Jack
and I mounted and started. We found fully as
big a job as I had anticipated, for the night's
catch yielded us over fifty wolfskins. It took us
most of the morning, brisk work, to get them all
gathered in, and our horses were so well loaded
with the hides that we had to walk and lead them
back to camp. Jack proved an apt pupil at wolf
skinning and soon could snatch a hide off as
quickly as I.
When we reached camp with our loads we found
that Tom, with his usual foresight, had whittled
us out a good lot of pegs, which greatly assisted
us in disposing of the pelts, and we soon had them
stretched and pegged down, flesh side up, on a
smooth piece of ground near the tent where we
had already started a drying yard.
Each evening, while there was anything left
for a wolf bait of the buffalo we had recently
killed, I made the round, poisoning the flesh, and
next morning Jack and I visited the baits, skinned
the dead wolves, brought in the pelts, and pegged
them down. This generally "spoiled" the fore
noon, while the afternoon would be spent in dig-
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OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
ging our dugout; but, as our winter quarters were
to be only about half the size of the stable, we
soon had the new excavation finished.
After putting the roof timbers on our dugout
we placed the stove in its corner, put on the extra
joints of pipe provided for the purpose, extending
it up through an opening in the slabs, and plas
tered a lot of mud around the pipe to prevent it
setting fire to the timbers. Then spreading buf
falo-hides over the timbers, we heaped up the
earth on it, as we had on the other one, and our
winter residence was ready for its furniture and
tenants. Our ten-foot-square room was rather cramped
quarters to hold us and all that we had designed
to put in it, and we found it necessary still to use
the tent to store such of our plunder as would not
need protection from the cold.
Without giving any reason, Tom insisted on
moving the tent up as close against the rear side
of the pile of dirt that constituted the roof of our
dugout as we could get it. I suspected then that
this was one of his strategic plans, and a few days
later my surmise was verified when we found him
at work digging a tunnel from the dugout room
to the centre of the tent. By this underground
connection we could go from one place to the other
without being exposed and, if necessary, could
use the tent as a lookout station.
On the evening that we moved into the dugout,
147

THE WOLF HUNTERS
as we sat down to our first meal in winter quar
ters, Tom remarked with evident satisfaction :
"Now, men, we've got things in shape so
that we're ready for a cold snap, snow-storm, or
norther ef one chances to come this way. From
now on we can take it easier. There will be a lot
of trimming an' tidying up to do about camp yet
for several days, an' while I'm putting on the fin
ishing touches you two can light out and go to
poisoning wolves an' trapping beaver or hunting
any other game that you can find. You ought to
explore the neighborhood for ten or twelve miles
around in every direction. It's about time, too,
for one of us to take a trip over to the fort to
get our mail an' find out what's going on in the
world." "Well, Tom, what are the orders for to-mor
row?" said I.
"Why, you an' Jack had better go out an' kill a
few more buffalo for baits an' Jack can set his
traps for some more beaver. You might both of
you ride up or down the creek for a few miles now
and then, to learn the country like an' maybe
pick up an antelope or some wild geese or ducks,
to make a change in our bill of fare. An' about
to-morrow or next day or the day after, when I
get things pretty well shaped up about camp, I
think I'll ride over to the fort an' get our mail
an' see what's going on in the United States."
"In a little while," remarked Jack, "if our luck
148

OUR CAMP ON WALNUT CREEK
holds out, we'll be gettin' a big lot of wolfskins
dried. How are we going to stow 'em away to
take care of 'em till spring?"
"Well," replied Tom, "in a few days I'll rig up
a lever to press 'em with, an' then as fast as we
get a hundred or so dried we'll put fifty of 'em in
a pile, press 'em down tight, an' tie 'em in bales
with rawhide strips an' then store the bales away
in the tent."

149

CHAPTER XIII
KILLED BY THE INDIANS
T70R the next few days we were all very busy.
-*- Tom was putting the finishing touches on
our quarters, while Jack and I were doing the
trapping, baiting, and skinning. I assisted Jack
in trapping beaver and he helped me in killing
buffalo and taking care of the wolfskins.
While working at these tasks we were riding the
surrounding country, east and west, up and down
the creek, and north and south in open prairie.
At a distance of about three miles down the creek,
on the north side, we found a series of connected
sloughs leading off from the creek out into the
prairie bottom, through which a string of little
ponds ran for about a mile and then united with
the main stream again.
These sloughs, bordered by a rank growth of
rushes, made excellent feeding-grounds for water
fowl. It was easy here to procure all the ducks,
geese, brant, and sand-hill cranes that we wished.
On the prairie were plenty of antelope, with now
and then a few deer and elk in the timber along the
creek. Everywhere were seen bleached and bleach
ing buffalo bones — too common a feature of the
landscape to attract more than a passing glance.
15°

KILLED BY THE INDIANS
One day Jack and I had been killing some buf
falo for wolf baits on the high prairie south of our
camp. We had become separated by a couple of
miles; each had killed his buffalo, and I had poi
soned mine and started to Jack, who was wait
ing for me to prepare his buffalo for the wolves
also. As I rode through a scattered lot of bones,
where several animals seemed to have been killed
together, I noticed among the lot a human skull.
Looking more closely, I saw other human bones
of the same skeleton and those of a horse, the
hoofs of which, with the shoes still on, showed
that it had not been an Indian's horse. Bones of
wolves lay among the others.
Here, then, seemed the evidences of a past
tragedy, and, wishing to have Jack come and help
to read the signs, I rode out clear of this bone-
yard, fired a shot from my rifle to attract his at
tention, and then began riding around in a circle —
the usual signal in such cases — to call him to me.
He understood and galloped toward me. While
he was coming I walked about among the relics,
trying to solve the mystery of which these bones
were the record. They had been somewhat scat
tered, by the wolves that had picked them, but
their general lay indicated pretty clearly the rela
tive situation of the man and animals at the time
of their death. The bones had probably not been
there more than about a year.
Although somewhat mixed and scattered, the
151

THE WOLF HUNTERS
general lay of the bones seemeid to show the buffalo
on one side, the horse on the other, and the man
between them. The man's skull had a small bul
let hole through it at the temples, which suffi
ciently indicated the immediate cause of his death;
but whether this shot had come from an enemy
or had been self-inflicted could not be determined
by the signs.
While thus trying to interpret the indications,
Jack reached me.
"Here, Jack, has been a man, horse, and buffalo
killed," I said as he halted, "and from the looks
of things, I think it happened about a year ago.
Help me to read the signs. The horse was a
white man's horse, for the hoofs, you see, have
shoes on."
"That ain't sure proof," replied he, "for the
horse might have been lately captured or stolen
from the whites. But, hold on!" he exclaimed
after a moment's survey of the bone-yard, as,
stooping, he picked up what proved to be the
lower jaw-bone of the human skull. "This set
tles it. This says he was a white man, for here's
a gold plug in one tooth."
"Well, that settles one important point," I re
plied. "But how did the buffalo, man, and horse
happen to die so close together?"
"Seems to me," said Jack, still walking about
scrutinizing the relics, "it could have happened in
only one or two ways. Either the man and his
152

KILLED BY THE INDIANS
horse have been killed by a wounded bull, an' the
bull then fell an' died with 'em, or — which is
more likely — the man killed the buffalo an', while
busy cutting some of the meat out, was corralled
by Injuns. How do you read it ? "
"The signs disprove your first proposition,
Jack," I answered, "but confirm the second. If
it had been an accident from a wounded bull there
would be some such remains as the metallic parts
of his gun or pistol, or buttons, spurs, buckles, and
so forth; but you see there's not a thing of that
kind to be seen. If he was killed by Indians they
would have carried off all his and his horse's
equipments; and I think that is what hap
pened." "I guess you're right," admitted Jack. "It
must have been the work of Injuns."
Just then he stopped and picked up an old
bleached buffalo shoulder-blade that seemed to
have been carefully placed, flat side down, on top
of the weather-whitened skull of the older set of
bones. "Halloo! what's this?" he exclaimed ex
citedly as he began scanning the bone. "Here
it is, Peck. This'll tell us something about it if
we can only make out the writing. See if you can
make it out."
On the flat side of the shoulder-blade was dimly
pencilled a partially obliterated and nervously
written inscription. It was without date, and
yet enough of the wording was legible to enable
153

THE WOLF HUNTERS
us to make out the following message from the
dead man:

Cut off and surrounded by Injens Woonded — lay
ing between ded hors and ded buffalow standing them
off. Catriges nearly all gon God hep me
John S. Kel Gran Mo.
The name seemed to be something like Kelton,
Kelsey, or Kelley, and several of the other words
were so imperfectly written that I had to guess
them out. We guessed the name of the town to
be Granby, Missouri.
As I finished rendering my interpretation of the
inscription Jack said, as he devoutly crossed him
self: '"God help me!' the poor fellow said, an' no
doubt the Good Man took pity on him an' let
154

: It must have been the work of Injuns."

KILLED BY THE INDIANS
him in at the gate, for the good Book do tell us
that he never was known to go back on such a
prayer as that. Well, he must have hurted some
of them Injuns in the row. It would be a satis
faction to find some sign that he got away with
some of 'em; so let's mount an' take a circuit
'round over the prairie for two or three hundred
yards out an' see if we can find anything."
We did so and were rewarded by finding the
bones of two small horses, probably Indian ponies
that the man had shot in defending his position.
"That's some satisfaction," said Jack as we re
turned, "for it's more'n likely that he killed some
of the Injuns, too. Well, what'll we do with these
things?" pointing to the skull, jaw-bone, and buf
falo shoulder-blade.
"I was thinking of taking them back to camp
with us," I replied, "to see what Tom will say."
"Just what I was thinkin'," said Jack, dis
mounting and preparing to tie the skull and jaw
bone to his saddle. "I'll carry these an' you can
carry the shoulder-blade. You'd better carry it
in your hand, an' be careful of it so's not to rub
out the writin' any more, for it's hard enough to
make out as it is."
Of course Tom was interested in the memorials
we brought and asked us many questions about
the signs we had found.
After giving him time to study the problem out,
I asked: 155

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Well, Tom, what do you make of it?"
"It's my guess," he replied deliberately, holding
the skull up before him as though reading its his
tory, "that this man was a wolf hunter, like our
selves, an' if so there'll be more of this affair to
be discovered hereabouts. He had killed that buf
falo for wolf bait, 'cause if he'd been after meat
he'd 'a' killed a younger one, or a cow, for you
say the bones showed it was a big bull. A man
wouldn't be so far away from the Santa Fe road
huntin' buffalo without he had a camp in this
neighborhood. If he had a camp he's had a
pardner or two, an' what must have become of
them? Their camp must have been somewheres
along the creek, not far from here. Have either
of you seen any signs of such a layout in your
rambles up or down the creek?"
"No," I answered, "but, then, neither of us has
been more than about three miles up or down."
"Well, after this, when you go up or down the
creek make your trips extend a little farther each
time till you've covered at least ten or twelve
miles each way; an' by keeping your eyes peeled
you may be able to find some remains of a hunt
er's camp or some sign that'll give us something
more about this. This man came to his death
about as you an' Jack guessed it; that is, while
getting ready to poison his buffalo for wolf bait
the Injuns came onto him an' surrounded him."
"I think," I interrupted him to say, "that he
156

KILLED BY THE INDIANS
had probably already poisoned the buffalo, for I
noticed the bones of several wolves there, which
would go to show that the wolves had died from
eating the poisoned meat of the buffalo."
"Well, yes — likely," returned Tom. "He put
up a good fight, though, from what you say, an'
seems to have been a man that's had some pre
vious experience in that line. Did you notice
any bullet hole in his horse's skull?"
"No. I looked for that, but there was no sign
that the horse had been shot in the head; but he
might have been shot elsewhere."
"'T ain't likely," replied the old man thought
fully, "for you say the horse's bones show that
he died close to the buffalo, an' the man in be
tween 'em, as his bones show an' the writing on
the shoulder-blade says. He must have cut its
throat. How far off from the man's bones was
the bones of the Injun ponies that you found?"
"About three hundred yards," I replied.
"Well, he must have had a Sharp's rifle,* for
a muzzle-loader wouldn't kill that far. But he's
* There were no metallic cartridge shells in use in those days, the
cartridges for Sharp's rifles and all firearms being put up in paper.
The Sharp's rifle carbine, which was one of the earliest breech-loaders
brought into use on the frontier, had been adopted by the govern
ment for the cavalry service and was also a favorite buffalo gun
among frontiersmen generally. Their extreme effective range was
eight hundred yards, the longest-range guns then in use on the plains.
The Colt's navy pistols we used then would shoot with the force
and accuracy of a rifle for about three hundred yards. I remember
seeing a sergeant in the Second Dragoons kill an antelope one day
with a Colt's navy (taking a dead rest) at a distance of three hun
dred paces. The regulation "pace" is thirty inches.
157

THE WOLF HUNTERS
had a navy pistol, too, for this shot he give him
self was a navy ball."
And taking a navy bullet out of his pocket,
Tom showed us that it would just fit the hole in
the skull.
"He's been right-handed, too," continued the
old man, "for the ball went in on the right side
an' come out on the left. You see, the little
hole is clean-cut on the right side but bigger an'
ragged on the left where it come out. That tells
where it went in an' where it come out. When
he wrote that note on the old shoulder-blade he's
been getting nervous, or maybe weak from loss
of blood. It's a pity, though, that he didn't set
down his name an' the town where he come from
a little plainer so's we could write to his folks
an' let 'em know what become of him. But, like
many another poor devil that's been wiped out
by Injuns, his people'll never know where, when,
or how he died.
"Well," continued the old man after a pause,
"I b'lieve I'll ride over to the fort to-morrow; an'
get our mail an' come back next day, an' I guess
I'll just take them things along," pointing to the
bones, "an' maybe some o' the folks over there
can tell me somethin' more about this affair. If
anybody knows anything about it French Dave'll
know, for he's been among the Injuns a good
deal an' would be likely to have heard something
about it." 158

CHAPTER XIV
SATANTA'S STORY
"^JEXT day, mounted on Black Prince, Tom
¦*¦ ^ started for Fort Larned. He had stowed
the skull of the supposed deceased wolf hunter in
a gunny sack tied to his saddle, but the buffalo
shoulder-blade he wrapped carefully in the fur of
a fox skin, to make sure that no chafing should
further obliterate the already obscure record.
These relics he intended to submit to the best
sign readers to be found about the fort, to ascer
tain if any light could be thrown on the supposed
tragedy. As I was writing a letter to send in by Tom,
Jack remarked: "We ought to have a name for
our camp, a place to date letters from, something
more than just 'Camp on Walnut Creek."1
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," I replied, "but
what shall we call it? The only things we see
here are buffaloes, coyotes, and antelopes, with a
few prairie-dogs and rattlesnakes. How would it
do to call our place ' Camp Antelope ' ? "
" I think it would be more to the point," said
Jack, "to call it 'Camp Coyote.'"
"Well," said Tom, "why not compromise and
call it 'Camp Coyotelope ' ? "
159

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Let it be so," said I, and I so dated my let
ter, and from that time on we spoke of our win
ter home as Camp Coyotelope.-
Nothing unusual happened while Tom was gone.
Jack tended his traps, while I did the wolf baiting
and skinning.
On the second evening, just in time for supper,
Tom returned from Fort Larned, bringing our
mail, and as we gathered around the table we
asked him anxiously what he had learned about
the dead man.
"A whole lot," replied the old man between
mouthfuls, "an' not just what I wanted to find out,
either. None of 'em could make out the man's
name or where he come from any nigher than we
did. I went right to the adjutant's office, where
I found several of the officers, an' when I brought
out the bones an' told 'em the story they be
came interested. One officer had heard something
about a party of hunters being wiped out by the
Injuns about a year ago, but he didn't know the
particulars. That writing on the old shoulder-
blade attracted 'em most, an' each one had to
take it an' examine it. But they couldn't make
it out. "I suggested to the adjutant that maybe French
Dave might know something, an' he sent an or
derly for Dave right away, an', sure enough, the
ol' French-Canadian did know something.
"01' Dave asked me: 'Where you find 'em?'
1 60

SATANTA'S STORY
An' then I told him all I knew about the matter,
an' what the signs seemed to show, an' read to him
the writing on the shoulder-blade, for Dave can
neither read nor write. He studied awhile an'
then said: 'Yes — mus' be same lot. I know
'bout yother two. See 'em bones where Injuns
kill 'em. No see this one bones, but Satanta tell
me 'bout it one day. Mus' be same one.'
"The story of the affair," continued Tom, "as I
gathered it from Dave, is about thisaway: Three
wolf hunters with a wagon an' team had estab
lished their camp on Walnut Creek, an' from what
Dave says the remains of that camp an' the bones
of two of the men must be down the creek from
here about five miles, on the same side we are on.
"These wolf hunters had just fairly got estab
lished when Satanta an' about twenty of his men
come along, one day, just in time to see this fel
low, whose bones you found, a-starting off on the
prairie to kill a buffalo an' poison it for wolves.
The Injuns hadn't been seen by the white men,
an' after this one was gone Satanta kept his men
out of sight of the wolf hunters, all except one
besides himself, an' him an' this one rode out in
sight of the white men an' made signs of friend
ship, an' the wolf hunters let 'em come into their
camp. After begging some grub from the white
men the two Injuns made themselves very agree
able an' friendly, an' by and by a few more of
the Kiowas dropped along an' was allowed to come
161

THE WOLF HUNTERS
into the camp; for I s'pose they seemed so friendly
that the white men thought it wouldn't look neigh
borly to show any suspicion of such good Injuns.
"Satanta told Dave, bragging how slick he
worked it, that when he got these wolf hunters in
a proper frame of mind an' saw that the sign was
right, he give the word, an' they turned loose and
killed the two men before they had time to realize
the trap they'd got into.
"Then, after plundering the camp, a warrior
called Lame Deer took six others an' started off
to follow up an' take in the man they'd seen going
away, for fear that he might somehow get wind
of the affair before coming back to camp and get
away. "They overtook him, so Satanta told Dave,
just after the man had killed a buffalo, skinned
part of the hide back, an', as the Injuns supposed,
was about to cut out some o' the hump steak; an',
just as we made it out by the signs, the man, see
ing the desperate fix he was in, had cut his horse's
throat to make a breastwork of his carcass on one
side, an', with the buffalo on the other, had got
down between 'em an' give the Injuns a rattlin'
good fight, killin' one Kiowa, badly woundin' an
other, an' killin' the two ponies you found the
bones of.
"But they got him at last — at least he killed
himself when he was down to his last cartridge —
an' then they piled onto him an' stripped every
162

SATANTA'S STORY
stitch of clothes off his body, but, seein' that the
man had committed suicide, their superstitions
kept 'em from scalping him or mutilating his
body. "An', now comes a gratifying part of the pro
ceedings, as told to Dave by Satanta, that the
signs didn't reveal to us. When Lame Deer an'
his party had stripped the dead man an' his horse
of all their equipments an' was gittin' ready to
return to Satanta's party at the hunters' camp,
some of the Injuns concluded to cut out a big
chunk of the hump steak of the buffalo that the
white man had just stripped the hide off of an'
intended to cut out the steak himself, as they
s'posed. /
"But it turned out that the white man had un
consciously set a death-trap for some of 'em; for
he had already poisoned the skinned side of the
buffalo, and when the Injuns got back to the
camp an' cooked an' eat their fresh hump steak
all that eat the fresh meat was poisoned, an' four
of 'em kicked the bucket right there.
"Well, sir, Dave says, this so scared the rest of
the Injuns that, although they had packed their
ponies with a lot of the white men's provender,
they were afraid to use any of the food, an' so
they piled all of it into the white men's wagon
an' set fire to it an' burned the whole business.
"Then, packing the bodies of their dead war
riors on their ponies, they made their way back
163

THE WOLF HUNTERS
to their main village, some miles down the creek,
a little the loser in the long run, for, although they
had killed the three white men an' destroyed
their outfit, it had cost 'em five warriors.
"The wiping out of these wolf hunters," Tom
went on, "corroborates what I've often told you,
an' what your own experience ought to teach
you, that it's never safe to depend on the friend
ship of Injuns — 'specially Kiowas. Whenever they
can get a good chance at a white man, or a small
party of whites, they don't hesitate to murder 'em
— an' 'specially a party of hunters, for that class
they consider their natural enemies on account of
the hunters killing what the Injuns claim to be the
red man's game.
"I left them bones with the adjutant over to
the fort," continued Tom, "as he thought maybe
somebody might come along who could throw more
light on the mystery. Then I called on Weissel
baum an' told him we were just a-gettiri under
good headway poisoning wolves, trapping beaver,
an' so forth, an' he offered to buy all our catch
— wanted to make a bargain with me right then —
but I stood him off, for I think maybe we can do
better to take our skins into Leavenworth. Some
of the officers wanted to know if we couldn't bring
'em over a saddle of antelope for their mess when
ever one of us goes over there for our mail. I
guess we can do it just as well as not an' make a
little spending money on the side; an', besides, it's
164

SATANTA'S STORY
always a good idea to be on good terms with the
officers at the post, for we may want favors from
them now an' then."
Since moving into our dugout we had found
ourselves so much more cramped for room than
we had been in the tent that, following Tom's
suggestion and example, we had each built him
self a swinging frame of poles with a buffalo-hide
stretched over it on which to spread our beds.
During the day we kept these hanging bunks
triced up to the timbers overhead, out of the
way, lowering them to within a couple of feet of
the floor to sleep in after supper each evening.
We found them a luxury compared with sleeping
on the hard ground.
Next day, after Tom's return from the fort,
Jack and I rode down the creek to look for the
bones of the wolf hunters of whom French Dave
had told Tom and had little difficulty in finding
them, for the burnt remains of their little log
cabin, on the prairie, a little way from the tim
ber, attracted us and guided us to the spot. The
bones of the two men had been scattered by the
wolves, biit the irons of their burnt wagon were
lying just where the fire had left them.
That their camp had been established at a rea
sonable distance from the timber and otherwise
well located in a defensive point of view showed
that these men had had some knowledge of the
dangers to be guarded against from hostile In-
165

THE WOLF HUNTERS
dians and that they had probably been plainsmen
of experience; but, as Tom said, their fatal error
was in allowing too many Indians to come into
their camp.
We were now — about the middle of December —
"doing a land-office business," as Jack expressed
it, in taking wolf pelts, gathering them in daily
about as fast as we could take care of them. Jack
was doing well also in beaver trapping, having
already accumulated a lot of fine furs.
Tom had rigged up a press by means of which
we put the skins into compact bales and stowed
them away in the tent. The tunnel connecting
the dugout and tent came up into the latter right
in the centre, between the legs of the iron tripod
that supported the tent-pole, and he placed the
bales of skins in a close wall all around the tent,
leaving an open space in the centre around the
tripod, and I asked him why.
"This tent," he answered, "will be our look
out station and also our 'bomb-proof in case of
need." "The bales of fur'll make it bullet-proof, all
right," I replied, "but I don't see how we can see
out after you get that bank of wolfskins piled up
toward the tops of the doors."
"When we get them up that high," said Tom,
"I intend to cut three or four loopholes in the
canvas, about big enough to look through an' shoot
out of, an' over each hole, to keep out the weather,
166

SATANTA'S STORY
I'll sew a flap that can be tucked up or let down to
suit circumstances."
"Great head," said Jack. "A good general was
spoiled when Tom enlisted."
'"In time of peace, prepare for war,' was one
of George Washington's maxims," said Tom, "an'
never was more sensible advice given for either
individual or nation."
Usually Jack and I did most of the hunting and
scouting around over the adjacent country, but
now and then Tom would strike out for a short
trip up or down the creek on his own account.
One day, after being out for a short time, he
came hurrying back and began to delve in the
mess-chest, inquiring for a fish-hook and line that
he had seen there, declaring that he had just
found a lot of fresh otter tracks on the bank of the
creek. "Why, Tom," asked Jack innocently, "do they
catch otter with fish-hooks ? "
"No, you numskull," replied the old man im
patiently, "the fish-hook and line is to catch fish
to bait traps for the otter.
"Now, then, Jack," continued the old man after
finding his fishing-tackle and assuring himself that
it was in good condition, "come along with me
down to the beaver dam, an' while I catch a fish
or two for bait you pull up a couple of your beaver
traps an' we'll set for otter."
"Well, I guess I can spare you a couple of traps
167

THE WOLF HUNTERS
now," replied Jack. "I ain't catching as many
beavers lately as when I first started in. I think
I'm getting the herd pretty well thinned out.
But I've done pretty well at trapping, for I've
took some thirty odd nice beaver skins besides a
few muskrats."
A few hours later the two men returned to camp
after having caught some fish and baited and set
the traps for otter, and next morning, taking Jack
with him, Tom found, on visiting his traps and fish
ing them up out of the water, a fine otter fastened
by a leg in each trap and drowned. Later Tom
took a number of otter skins, but they were by
no means as numerous as the beaver.
Black Prince, after he became accustomed to
it, was a much better buffalo horse than either
of the mustangs, though, when two mounted
hunters went out, the buckskin bronco, Vinegar,
did pretty well for that work. The gray mare,
Polly, could not be brought near enough to a
buffalo to be used as a hunter. Now and then
Jack and I went afoot down to the slough to kill
some ducks or geese. Our shepherd dog Found
was a good retriever, and when we went gunning
for water-fowl we generally took him along to
bring ashore any birds killed on the water.
"I want to remind you men," said Tom one
day, "that this fine weather we've been having
can't, in the nature of things, last much longer.
We're liable to have a cold rain, turning to a sleet
168

SATANTA'S STORY
or snow-storm, or maybe a regular old blizzard
swooping down on us now soon, an' we must be
prepared for it. Our camp's in pretty good shape,
but we haven't fitted ourselves out with fur caps
an' mittens an' other fixings to enable us to stand
the winds of winter. I propose that we put in
our spare time for the next few days a-dressing
some hides, an' then a-cutting out and making us
a good fur cap an' pair of mittens apiece, an'
something in the way of buffalo overshoes, too,
to slip on over our boots, an' a wolfskin overcoat
apiece. "Now, the first thing to do is to select the hides
to be used an' flesh 'em, an' then get out that
package of alum that we brought along to tan
'em with an' go to dressing 'em. Those little
yellow fox skins ain't worth much to sell, but they
will be just the things for caps an' mittens. I've
got an old buffalo robe that we can cut up for
overshoes an' put rawhide soles to 'em. As for
myself, I've been thinking that the next time I
go over to the fort I'll see if I can find enough
dressed buffalo calfskins in Weisselbaum's stock
— it'll only take about six or eight — to make me
an overcoat; for a buffalo calfskin overcoat is a
mighty serviceable garment for winter wear."
"You're right, they are," said Jack, "but I
guess me an' Peck'll have to put up with a coyote
coat apiece for knockin' around here this winter,
and when we get back to Leavenworth we'll have
169

THE WOLF HUNTERS
a stylish overcoat of beaver skins put up for next
winter. What do you say, Peck?"
"I'm favorable," I replied, "but, as this is a
partnership business, of course we'll have to pay
Tom for his interest in the beaver skins."
"Well," said the old man, "I'll balance the ac
count with you this way. I'll make it a stand
off, if I get otter skins enough, by having me a
fancy overcoat made of them."
The caps, mittens, overshoes, and coats were
duly made and gave us much comfort during the
storms of winter.
Game continued plenty. We often killed an
telope within a few rods of our dugout and some
times had to turn out in the night and help the
dog drive a herd of buffalo out of camp.

170

CHAPTER XV
WILD BILL VISITS US
TN preparing for a probable blizzard we had
hauled up several loads of good, dry wood and
chopped much of it into stove wood, carrying it
into our quarters and stowing it away in the
tunnel, still leaving a passageway, however. We
found that the tunnel acted as a flue and caused
such a draught through our little room that we
were forced to temporarily close up the opening
in the tent by placing a bale of wolfskins over the
hole. We now put our stock into their dugout
stable at night, giving them a little hay to gnaw
at, and during the day, when not in use, we kept
them out on the dry buffalo-grass. As yet we were
feeding them no grain, saving that for a time of
need. "From now on," Tom said, "I want you men
to be particular to put harness, tools, an' every
thing under shelter of nights, so that we can find
these things when we want 'em, for we're liable
to get up 'most any morning now and find a couple
of feet of snow on the ground an' this ravine be
tween us an' the stable drifted level full. In that
case we'll want the spade an' shovel to clear away a
171

THE WOLF HUNTERS
passage to the stable door, so's we can 'tend to the
stock; for a blizzard is liable to keep up the howl
for several days an' nights; an' during such a spell
we won't dare to poke our noses out of the shanty
further than to feed the stock. We'll fix Found a
comfortable bed in the tent, between the stacks
of wolfskins, where he can be of some service as a
sentry without being too much exposed, but in
case of a very keen spell we'll bring him into the
dugout." Previous to this time Jack and I had explored
the country for a distance of ten or twelve miles
in every direction — not looking for game particu
larly, for that was always plenty close around
camp, but for signs of the presence of Indians.
We had discovered, however, no fresh signs —
nothing to indicate that Indians had visited this
part of the country more recently than a couple
of months past. This fact encouraged us, and we
hoped that we would be fortunate enough to finish
our winter's work undisturbed. Still, Indians
were likely to be moving about occasionally, even
at this time of the year, and might yet discover
our camp, in which case they might make it un
pleasant for us.
This part of the plains was sometimes ranged
over by the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and other
tribes, but had been for some time past the spe
cial range of the Kiowas, who, under the leader
ship of Satank, Satanta, and Big Tree, were ever
172

WILD BILL VISITS US
ready to wipe out a small party when the oppor
tunity presented.
While we relied somewhat on our proximity
to Fort Larned as a protection from Indian depre
dations, we felt that our only real security was
in not being discovered by the Kiowas until our
hunting season was over and we were ready to
break camp and return to the settlements.
On Tom's last trip over to the fort he had
learned that our old Company K, First Cavalry,
together with the other three companies from Fort
Wise, under command of Captain Elmer Otis, had
passed by Fort Larned a few days before, en route
to Fort Leavenworth and the war.
We were all sorry that we had not learned of the
passing of our old command in time for one of our
party, at least, to meet them at Fort Larned and
exchange gossip with them; and Jack was regret
ting that he had not re-enlisted, instead of going
wolf hunting, so that he could now be going to
the front with them. He feared that the fighting
would be all over and the war brought to a close
before he got a chance at it.
"Don't you fret about this war coming to a
close before you can get a whack at them rebels,"
said Tom. "It's just a-getting under good head
way now, an' there'll be lots of good fighting yet
for you and me; and more'n likely, if we live
through it, we'll be longing for peace long before
peace comes again." 173

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Our tent was fast becoming filled with bales of
wolfskins, and one day I asked:
"Tom, what are we going to do for some place
to store our wolfskins? Our tent is nearly full,
and we are still taking them, and the season isn't
half through."
"I've been thinking about that, too," replied
the old man, "and I guess I'll make another trip
over to the fort to-morrow to get them buffalo calf
skins for my overcoat, an' while I'm over there I'll
try to get the use of an empty room there among
the old dobes where we can store 'em; an' we can
take a wagon-load over from time to time as the
tent gets too full."
Next day he went to the fort, returning on the
following evening, with a lot of Indian-dressed
buffalo calfskins for his overcoat, and reported
that he had engaged an unused room of Weissel
baum wherein to store our baled skins.
Tom soon had a very serviceable overcoat made
from the calfskins — far better than the coyote
coats Jack and I had made us — lining it with a
red blanket and covering the collar and cuffs with
muskrat skins, which have a beautiful fur, some
what similar to the beaver in color but not so
heavy. As yet we had had but one light fall of snow —
nothing like a storm — and it had soon passed off,
the weather continuing fair but quite cold of
nights and mornings. 174

WILD BILL VISITS US
One day, as we were about to sit down to dinner,
my attention was arrested by a whoop or two that
had a familiar sound, and, on looking out on the
trail toward the fort, I saw a mounted man coming
at a gallop. Found, too, seemed to think he had
heard that whoop before, for he ran up onto the
dirt roof of our dugout, looked and listened a
moment at the approaching horseman, and when
the shout was repeated he hesitated no longer
but with a wild yelp of recognition dashed away
to meet the newcomer.
I had just time to call to my comrades in the
dugout: "See here, men, I believe it's Wild Bill,"
when, as they came rushing out, I noticed the
mounted man halt suddenly and roll off his horse
as the dog met him, and in a moment more Found
and his master were rolling over the ground hug
ging each other in mad delight, while Bill's horse
stood looking on in apparent astonishment at their
wild antics.
As Bill came walking up to camp, leading his
horse, with Found prancing and yelping about
him, I thought I had never seen a dog so nearly
crazy with delight. No doubt, Found had often
thought of his absent master and had wondered
what had become of him and whether he would
ever see him again; and now they were reunited,
and both seemed overjoyed at the meeting.
After hearty greetings and handshakes all around
the scout tied his horse to a wheel of the wagon
175

THE WOLF HUNTERS
while we all retired to the dugout, where our din
ners were in danger of getting cold, and were soon
seated around the mess box, eating and talking,
for we all had a great deal to say to Bill, and he
to us. Found had huddled down beside his mas
ter and was not neglected.
"I hope you've come to stay several days with
us, Bill," said Tom.
"No, boys," replied the scout; "I'll stay with
you to-night, but I've got to get back to the fort
to-morrow. You see, the regulars are going away
before long, and the troops that's coming to take
their places are volunteers and, of course, green
as grass about frontier service and managing
Injuns; an' so me an' French Dave an' a few other
ol' hands have got to get out an' scout around
and find out where the Injuns are at an' try to
find out how they're feelin' toward the whites, an'
so forth. That's what I was sent out here ahead
of the volunteers for. But when I get back to
the fort I'll be close enough to come over an' take
a square meal with you every now and then."
Leaving Bill and Tom to talk while the old man
cleared up the dishes, Jack and I went out to at
tend to the stock; and the Irishman suggested
that while I took our two broncos out of the stable
and staked them on the lee side of the haystack
he would unsaddle the scout's horse and put him
in the stable. When Bill came out and found
what he had done he remonstrated. 176

WILD BILL VISITS US
"Now, boys, I don't want you to go to any
trouble on my account, for I'm used to taking
things as they come, an' my horse is, too. I'm
afraid it'll be hard on your broncos to turn 'em
out in the cold."
"Not a bit of it," replied Jack. "The weather's
not bad now, an' they're tough, anyway. You see,
we don't have the honor of entertainin' the Hon
orable William Hickock, Esq., every day, an' we
want to treat him so well that he'll come again."
'Well, I'll sure do it," replied the scout; then
taking a look at our camp and surrounding
grounds, he added: "Boys, you've certainly
picked out an' built a good camp an' planned
everything handy for your winter's work. I
think I can see ol' Tom's handiwork all through
this layout."
"You're right," said Jack; "if it wasn't for ol'
Tom's brains I don't know what we'd do."
Going into the stable again, Jack brought out
Black Prince to show him to Bill.
"This is the horse that we captured from them
jayhawkers back t'other side of Council Grove,"
he said as he led the black out for the scout's
inspection. "He's a fine-lookin' fellow, Jack. Is he any
good?" "You bet. One of the best horses for all-' round
service I ever saw," replied the enthusiastic Irish
man. 177

THE WOLF HUNTERS
We had a great time that afternoon relating to
Bill all the happenings since we parted with him
in Leavenworth, and after supper we still had
plenty to talk about by candle-light.
"Boys, you seem to have taken good care of
Found," said Bill, stroking the dog's head again
for the thousandth time, "judging by his looks
and the contented way he's stuck to you. Has
he been any account to you ? "
"That he has," replied Jack. "He's one of
the best and smartest dogs I ever saw. I don't
know how we'd get along without him."
"Well, I guess he may as well make his home
with you as long as you stay here, for I'll be away
from the post pretty often, an' I wouldn't like to
leave him there to run with everybody; but if
you've no objections I'll take him over to Larned
with me to-morrow, just to give him a little exer
cise an' let him renew old acquaintance with the
soldiers an' officers, for they all know him; an'
I'll be coming by this way in a day or so again —
for I expect I'll have to take a trip over to the
Smoky Hill to locate the Kiowas — an' then I'll
leave him with you again."
"All right, Bill, he's your dog," replied Jack,
"but he's mighty welcome here an' he's a lot of
help to us minding camp."
"No doubt of it, for he's got more sense than
some people have. I can talk to him an' tell him
to do things, an' he seems to understand 'most
178

WILD BILL VISITS US
everything I say to him an' will do just what I
tell him to."
"Bill," I asked, "do the officers at the garrison
seem to think there's any danger of the Indians
going on the war-path?"
"Well, no, I don't think they really expect any
outbreak," replied the scout, "but Injuns, you
know, are the most uncertain varmints on earth;
an' on account of taking away the regulars an'
putting green volunteers to garrisoning the posts
on the plains, it's more'n likely that the Injuns'll
soon discover the difference an' take advantage
of the chance to raise a ruction. I've got to look
up the Kiowas first, 'cause they're the most likely
ones to make trouble; an' when I find their winter
camp I'll stay with 'em a few days, to kinder feel
of 'em an' see what sort of a humor they're in,
an' then I'll hunt up the Cheyennes an' Arapa
hoes next an' feel of their pulses, too. An' while
I'm a-doing that job French Dave an' the other
fellows'll be looking up the Comanches an' Prairie
Apaches — they generally range between the Cimar
ron an' Red River, an' ain't likely to come up this
way before grass comes, anyway, but the Kiowas
an' Cheyennes'll need watchin'."
"Well, when you get back you must call around
here and let us know what you think of the pros
pect for peace or war — that is, if you find out any
thing," I said.
"How many of you will go on this trip?" asked
Tom. 179

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Only two — me an' John Adkins. You see,
Frenchy is to take a man with him an' round
up the country south of the Arkansas, along the
Cimarron an' the Canadians, an' I'll take Ad
kins with me an' scout the country north till we
find the camps.
Next morning, after breakfast, Wild Bill, fol
lowed by Found, took the trail back to Fort
Larned. Jack and I made our usual round of the
baits in the forenoon, skinned the dead wolves
that we found lying about them, brought in the
skins and pegged them down to dry.
In the afternoon we started out afoot to kill
some fresh meat for our mess, the Irishman going
up the creek in search of antelope or deer while I
walked down to the slough to see if there were any
water-fowl there to be picked up. I killed a sand
hill crane and returned to camp. Jack had done
better than I, having killed a large deer and come
back and taken Prince out to carry the meat in.
Tom had outdone us both, having killed four an
telope without leaving camp.
"How in the world did you do it, Tom?" I
asked as I come to where he was busy skinning
and dressing four dead antelope that he had
strung up.
"Well, sir, I'll tell you how it was," replied he
with a gratified smile, still plying his butcher-knife.
"Soon after you men left camp a bunch of antelope
come playing 'round on the prairie out yonder,
1 80

WILD BILL VISITS US
up the ravine a piece, but, as they wouldn't come
quite close enough to suit me, I got out a red
blanket, tied it to a little pole, an' crept along up
the ravine till I got about opposite to 'em, an'
then raised the red blanket above the bank an'
planted the pole.
"Soon as they sighted the strange red thing
they raised their heads an' stared at it a bit,
an' then come up toward it, all in a bunch, an'
stopped an' took another look. Then they seemed
to get frightened an' turned an' run away, but
I knew they'd come back. They circled 'round
an' come up again an' halted for another look,
an' then run away again an' circled 'round an'
come back, an' each time they came a little
closer. "I noticed that when they'd halt to gaze at the
blanket they'd line up four or five abreast; so the
idea struck me that if I could get back into an
other little ravine that was close by, an' crawl up
that a little ways, so as to take 'em in flank when
they'd line up thataway, I'd get two or three of
'em. I did that, an' the next time they halted an'
lined up there were four of 'em in range, with their
sides to me, an' I turned loose an' killed three of
'em an' wounded the fourth so that I got him
next shot."
'You did a good job, and did it well, too," I
replied. Just then Jack came up with his load of
deer meat. "Why, Jack," I began, "how in the
l8l

THE WOLF HUNTERS
world did you happen to kill a buck? I didn't
think you were hunter enough to stalk a deer."
"You don't appear to know me, young fellow,"
he returned with a swaggering air. "It's a mighty
hunter I'm getting to be, as well as a famous
trapper." "But tell us all about how you got that buck; I
know there's something to explain about it," I
replied. "Well, now," laying aside his assumed bragga
docio and becoming the candid Irishman again,
"to tell you the honest God's truth, I just blun
dered onto him. It was this way: I was a-sneak-
ing along through the timber when all of a suddent
I sees this laddybuck a-standing broadside to me,
only about twenty steps away, an' he hadn't seen
nor heard me, for I was behind a big tree. I was
that nervous I didn't think I could have hit the
side of a barn, so I rested my carbine against the
side of the tree, took as good aim as I could about
where I thought his heart ought to be — right be
hind the fore shoulder — an' let him have it; an'
I'm blest if I didn't fetch him, first pop. He gave
one big bound into the air an' fell dead; an' just
then two does, that had been laying down behind
some bushes, jumped an' run an' were out of
sight in a jiffy, before I could shove another car
tridge into me carbine. But I didn't want any
more deer meat just then, so I came back to camp
to get the horse to fetch the meat in."
182

WILD BILL VISITS US
"But, Tom," I asked, "what are we going to do
with so much venison?"
"Oh, it'll keep, all right; but then I'll be going
over to the fort again in a day or so, an' I guess
I'd as well take two or three of the carcasses over
there an' sell 'em to the officers' mess."

183

CHAPTER XVI
TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
' I ^HIS evening, just before dark, when we were
¦*- bringing in the tools and making things se
cure for the night, I noticed that Tom had got
out an old padlock that had long lain unused in
the mess-chest, and then had found a piece of
trace-chain, and with the two had securely locked
the stable door- — a precaution that we had never
thought necessary before — and I asked him:
"What are you doing that for, Tom? Seen any
fresh signs about?"
"No," he answered, "but 'tain't much trouble
an' it's always best to be on the safe side. We've
been used to having Found to do guard-duty of
nights, an' it may have got us in a fashion of sleep
ing sounder than we would if we'd had to look out
for ourselves; now, while the dog is away, with the
stable door unlocked it would be easy enough for
an Injun to sneak our horses out an' get away with
'em." I smiled at what seemed to me a useless pre
caution and it passed from my mind; but along in
the night, after we had been some hours asleep, I
184

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
was suddenly awakened by a slight noise like the
rattling of a chain.
Instantly I was thoroughly aroused and remem
bered Tom's chain on the stable door. Had I been
dreaming? I raised my head cautiously and lis
tened intently. There it was again — unmistak
ably the chain on the stable door.
I determined to investigate before arousing my
comrades, and slipping quietly out of my bed I
tiptoed carefully to the door, pulled up one cor
ner of the muslin cover to the lookout hole, and
peeped out at the stable door. The moon was
shining brightly, and there, to my astonishment,
sat a man, crouched at the door of the stable in
tently working at the lock, either trying to pick
it or pry it off. He was not an Indian, either.
He had soldier clothes on, and beside him on the
ground lay a small bundle.
I took in all this at a glance, and then quietly
and quickly slipped back to Tom's bed, shook him
gently, and whispered :
"Sh! don't make a bit of noise, Tom. There's
a man working at the lock on the stable door.
Get up quietly while I wake Jack."
It was more difficult to keep the excitable Irish
man quiet while arousing him, but I succeeded in
getting him up without making noise enough to
be heard outside. Each man took a look through
the peep-hole and saw that the crouching soldier
was still intently working at the lock.
185

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Now," I whispered to my comrades, "let each
one of us get his carbine or pistol ready, and be
careful to keep them from rattling, and when I
open our door we'll call on him to throw up his
hands and take him prisoner."
"I think I'll give him a load of shot first,"
whispered Jack, who had the shotgun, "an' then
call on him to throw up."
Finding that I could not open our door without
making a noise, I jerked it wide open quickly. As
I did so the kneeling man turned the full side of
his face to me, and in the bright moonlight I
recognized private John Flaherty, one of two
soldiers who not long before, with Lieutenant
Smith, had been caught in a blizzard at our camp
and had stayed there until the storm was over.
Seeing Jack raise his shotgun to fire, I knocked
the muzzle up as I exclaimed:
"Don't shoot, Jack, it's Flaherty!"
He had pressed the trigger, but my throwing
the barrels up sent the load of shot into the dirt
roof of the stable instead of into Flaherty's back.
I wondered at the stupid, sluggish manner of
the man as he rose to his feet at the report of the
gun, but when he started off up the path leading
to the top of the bank his uncertain gait plainly
showed that he was drunk.
Dropping his shotgun, Jack bounded out and
up the path after him, soon overtaking the drunken
soldier, seizing him by the collar and cuffing him
1 86

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
right heartily, with each slap rebuking the would-
be horse thief for his drunkenness and thievery.
When Flaherty was brought into the dugout
it was evident that he was almost senseless from
drink. He was taken over to Found's bed and
left there, sound asleep.
"There," said Tom, "we forgot to bring in that
little bundle he left by the stable door."
He brought it in, and on opening it it was found
to consist of a pint bottle with a little whiskey in
it and a change of underclothing marked with the
man's initials.
"Well," said Tom, "this poor fellow has gone
on a spree; while drunk the idea of deserting has
come to him, and he has started off over the prairie
in the dead of winter, through an Indian country,
without arms, provisions, or clothing. As I have
often said, a man who is drunk is literally crazy,
and this proves it."
Next morning, when Flaherty was aroused, he
had at first no idea where he was and, after he
had been told, no idea how he got here. He pro
fessed that he had no wish to desert, for he was
getting along in his company as well as any of
the men and his time of service had nearly ex
pired. However, he actually had deserted, and he did
not know what to do, whether to go back and give
himself up and take his punishment or whether to
go on. Tom said to him: 187

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Of course, Flaherty, you can do as you like,
but I really think, under the circumstances, you
had best go back and give yourself up and take
your medicine. Maybe, if I go along with you
and explain the situation to Lieutenant Smith,
and ask him to intercede with the commanding
office, you can be returned to duty without a
court martial."
"Would you do that for me, Tom?" asked
Flaherty gratefully.
"I'll do all I can for you, Flaherty, for I do not
hold you responsible for what you have done; but
you had a mighty close call, and if whiskey serves
you that way you ought to take warning and
swear off."
"That's just what I've been thinking, Tom, and
I swear right now I'll never taste another drop."
As I rode up to camp about sundown that day
I noticed two or three mounted men far out on the
high prairie, coming on the trail from Fort Larned.
The field-glass made them out to be Wild Bill and
John Adkins with a pack-mule, and Found trot
ting along with them. They soon reached us and
dismounted and began unpacking.
"Is supper most ready, boys?" asked Bill.
"I'll have it ready," replied Jack, "by the time
you're ready for it."
"We've just got room in the stable for your
two horses," I explained, "in place of the mule
team Tom took with him, and I guess I'll take one

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
of our broncos out and tie it behind the haystack
to make room for your pack-mule, Bill."
"Don't you do anything of the kind, Peck,"
replied the scout. "That's one of Uncle Sam's
mules, an' he'll do well enough tied in the lee of
your haystack; in fact, it wouldn't hurt our horses
much, either, to stand out."
While Bill, Adkins, and I had been watering,
feeding, and putting away the stock, Jack had
been getting supper, and now stepped to the door
of the dugout with his fiddle and sounded "mess
call," to see if the scout would know what it
meant. "That sounds pretty natural," said Bill to me,
"let's go in an' see what he's got to show for it,
for I'm as hungry as a coyote."
As we gathered around the mess-chest I in
quired :
"When do they expect the volunteers that are
coming to relieve the regulars?"
"Don't know a thing, only that they're on the
road somewhere 'tween here an' Leavenworth.
Now, if they were regulars you could calculate to
the hour when they'd get here, for when they get
orders to go anywhere neither hell nor high water'll
stop 'em; but if a little bad weather strikes these
volunteers, an' they can find a snug camping
place, they're liable to hang up for a week or two,
an' put in the time stealing chickens an' playing
cards." 189

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"How long do you and Adkins expect to be gone
on this trip, Bill?"
"Well, now, that's a sort of a 'kin-savvy' case,"
he replied. "It depends on how soon we find the
Injuns' camp. Maybe it'll take us a week —
maybe two weeks or more — can't tell; but once
we get onto their trail we'll soon overhaul 'em.
John, here, says that ol' To hausen, the 'Little
Mountain,' an' his band is camped right down
Walnut Creek, about half-way 'tween here an'
Charley Rath's ranch — 'bout twenty-five miles
from here."
"Yes," said Adkins, "I was up to their camp
'bout a week ago, an since that some of the Injuns
was down to the ranch a-trading; but they don't
know, for sure, where Satank an' the rest of the
tribe is; but they thought we'd be apt to find 'em
on the Smoky, or the Saline, or Solomon, or maybe
on some of the little timbered creeks in between
the rivers."
"Do you think, Adkins," I asked, "that there
is any likelihood of To hausen's band moving up
this way? For it would bother our wolf-hunting
business if they should come near us."
"Oh, they may be a-moving camp now an' then,
to get fresh grass for their hosses; but if they get
to crowdin' on you, all you've got to do is to go
to ol' To hausen an' ask him to keep far enough
away so's not to interfere with your wolf poison
ing, an' he'll do it, for he's a pretty good ol' In-
190

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
jun, an' always tries to keep on good terms with
the whites. There's only about a hundred men in
his band, an' they're mostly ol' men what's had
experience enough to know that it pays better to
keep on good terms with Uncle Sam's people than
to be bucking again 'em. But the most of the
tribe now seems to be of the other way of think
ing an' have split off from ol' To hausen, who
used to be head chief, an' taken to following the
lead of such devils as Satank, an' Satanta, an' Big
Tree; an' they're the ones we've got to look out
for." "Where do vou expect to find the Kiowa trail,
Bill?" "Well, from here, we'll follow this ol' lodge-pole
trail; it turns off from the Walnut a few miles up
the creek an' goes over to the Smoky Hill, which
is about twenty miles from here; an' about oppo
site this point on the Smoky is a mail station on
the Denver stage route, an' I reckon we'll be able
to find out from the station men whether the
Kiowas have gone up or down the river an' lay
our course to suit."
"When we first came here," I informed him,
"it looked like the last travel over the trail had
been about two months before — that would have
been about September — and the tracks were going
toward the Smoky Hill; but they might have been
made by Cheyennes or 'Rapahoes."
"We'll be apt to find an old moccasin, or a
191

THE WOLF HUNTERS
broken arrow, or somethin' dropped or thrown
away on " the trail, before we travel very far,
that'll tell what tribe travelled it last," remarked
the scout.
"I noticed that you don't carry any picket-
pin," I remarked; "how do you picket your horse
out?" "I picket him to a hole in the ground. I dig a
hole with my knife about a foot deep; tie a big
knot in the end of my lariat; put it down in the
bottom of the hole; fill in the dirt an' tamp it
down hard as I can with my foot; an' that'll hold
him 'bout as good as a picket-pin, an' saves the
trouble, an' saves my horse the weight of the iron
pin; an' I always try to lighten my horse's load
of every ounce I can do away with. An' when
I'm out by myself, or where there's nobody to
stan' guard at night, I make my bed with my head
on my saddle, 'bout half-way 'tween my horse
an' the end of my lariat that's buried, an' if any
thing strange comes in sight the horse'll begin
running 'round at the end of his rope, an' dragging
it over me'll wake me up."
"Well, your way of doing these things is just
about the same as we were trained to do in the
cavalry," I remarked.
"Why, of course," replied Bill, "for nearly all
I know about scouting is what I learnt from the
ol' cavalrymen an' ol' army officers. You take
one of them ol' soldiers or officers that's been out
192

TOM LOCKS THE STABLE DOOR
on the frontier fifteen or twenty years, an' what
he don't know about such matters ain't worth
knowing." In the morning, after breakfast, while assisting
the two scouts to saddle up and pack their mule,
Jack cut off an antelope ham and tied it in their
pack, "to give them a starting of fresh meat," as
he said.
Taking up a position in front of Bill, Found
stood wagging his tail and looking up pleadingly
into his master's face, seeming to ask: "May I go
with you?"
"No, Found," said the scout, between whom
and his dog there seemed to be a perfect under
standing, "you can't go. It'd be too long an'
hard a road for you an' would wear you out.
You must stay right here till I come back."
Then, turning to me, he said :
"You'd better get his chain an' collar an' I'll
tie him to that post there, an' he'll know by that
that I don't want him to go an' he'll not try to
follow us after we leave."
I brought the chain and Bill took it and tied
the dog, petting and talking kindly to him, and
then making him lie down, which seemed to satisfy
Found that his master desired him to remain.
"Let us hear from you, Bill," I requested, "as
soon as you get back, will you, for I'd like to
know how the Kiowas are feeling."
"Yes, I will," he replied; "if I don't come back
193

THE WOLF HUNTERS
this way I'll come over from the fort soon after we
get back."
Mounting their horses — Adkins leading the
pack-mule, while Wild Bill rode behind to drive it
up — they crossed the creek below the beaver dam,
and were soon out of sight behind the timber.

194

CHAPTER XVII
VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
' I AOM returned from Fort Larned that evening.
-*- He hoped that his intercession for Flaherty
would procure a mitigation of the usual penalty;
but desertion, even under extenuating circum
stances, was too serious an offence to pass without
at least a form of punishment. The culprit was
put in the guard-house, with a fair prospect, how
ever, of being released and restored to duty before
long. The long-expected three companies of volun
teer cavalry had arrived to relieve the old garri
son, and as soon as the government property could
be transferred from the old officials to the new, the
old garrison — two companies of Second Infantry
and one of Second Dragoons — would march away
to Fort Leavenworth. A week later our old com
rades, the regulars, were gone.
On his return from his next visit to Fort Larned,
two weeks later, Tom had much to say about the
lack of discipline shown by the volunteers at the
fort, and as we gathered around the mess box, after
putting the mules away, he continued his com
plaints, 195

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"The volunteers don't know anything about
soldiering," said Tom, "an' the officers are no
better. It nearly broke my heart to see the miser
able imitation of military service they're gettin'
off. "Now, to give you an idea of their style, com
pared with regulars, what would you think to
see a buck private in his dirty fatigues come
a-saunterin' up to the adjutant's office, flop him
self down in a chair, hoist his muddy boots up
onto a table, push his hat back, an' say to the
commanding officer, who was occupying a similar
position on the opposite side of the table: 'Well,
Joe, what do you think of this layout, as far as
you've got?' "
"Oh, come now, Tom," said Jack with an in
credulous smile, "you don't expect us to believe
such a yarn as that?"
"It's gospel truth," exclaimed the old man.
"Here's another sample of how they do it: A cap
tain was standin' in front of the adjutant's office
smokin' a cigar, an' a corporal strolled up to him
an' asked: 'I say, Cap, have you got the mate to
that about your clothes?' "
"Peck, do you believe him?" said Jack, ap
pealing to me; and without waiting for my an
swer, he continued: "I do be afeared Tom's been
mixin' his drinks."
"Here's another one," said Tom. "A lieuten
ant an' about a dozen men come out of their
196

VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
quarters an' started straggling off toward the
stables, an' I followed 'em to see what they were
up to. They went into the stable an' went to
saddling their horses to go somewheres. By and
by the lieutenant got his horse saddled an' called
back into the stable: 'Are you all ready there,
boys?' Some were ready, an' come leadin' their
horses out; but one fellow called back to him:
'Don't you get in such a rush there now, for I've
got to put my spurs on yet.' Another fellow said :
'I've got a notion not to go, for I told the ser
geant not to put my name on this detail.' 'Oh,
yes, John, you'd better come along. We'll have
a good time,' said the lieutenant, kind of coaxing
him. "Well, after callin' back again to the man who
hadn't got his spurs on, an' getting the answer
that he was about ready, instead of giving his
commands in military style, to 'Lead into line!'
'Count fours!' 'Prepare to mount!' 'Mount!'
'Form ranks!' an' then move out 'by fours,' how
do you suppose he did it? Well, sir, he just says:
'Well, get on your horses, boys,' an' climbed onto
his horse, an' started off, saying as he looked back
over his shoulder: 'Come ahead, fellows.' An'
they straggled off after him.
"Well, they're good enough men, on an aver
age, I guess," continued Tom, "an' will make good
soldiers if they just had the right sort of officers
over 'em; for good officers make good soldiers, an'
197

THE WOLF HUNTERS
vice versa. But how can the blind lead the blind ?
Their officers can't instruct the men, for the offi
cers don't know anything about military matters
themselves. An' it's one of the truest sayings
that ever was said that 'familiarity breeds con
tempt'; an' if an officer, or even a non-com, ex
pects to command the respect and obedience of
them that's subject to his orders, he's got to hold
himself aloof from 'em, to a reasonable degree;
an' he's got to prove himself competent to com
mand 'em."
Naturally, Jack and I became very anxious to
go over to the fort and see things for ourselves,
and when the time came for going after our next
mail and taking in another load of wolfskins
Tom agreed to let us both make the trip, on a
strict promise from Jack that he would not taste
liquor. At the post we found the state of affairs about
as Tom had represented. Officers and men seemed
equally ignorant of military affairs and especially
of frontier service.
While loafing about the sutler's store next day,
Weisselbaum came out of his back room and, call
ing me to one side, said confidentially:
"I've got a job for you, Peck, and there's good
pay in it, too. It's this way: There's a young
man here, Lieutenant Lang, in command of one of
these companies; he's got plenty of money; his
father's rich an' furnishes him plenty. He's a
198

VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
first-rate fellow. But he's considerably embar
rassed just now," he continued; "the captain of
the company has been away from it for several
months, leaving the lieutenant in command, and
during that time he has received a lot of govern
ment property, for which he's got to account, of
course, and he's kept no accounts and has noth
ing to show what's become of this stuff. You see,
he's in a bad fix, and unless he can find some one
who understands these affairs to help him out, he's
going to have to pay the government several hun
dred dollars — maybe as much as a thousand or
two — out of his own pocket, or his daddy's
rather. He stated his case to me and asked if I
knew of any one that he could get to straighten
up his company papers; and when I saw you I
remembered that you used to be company clerk
in your old company at Fort Riley, and I thought
you would know how to help him out of the
scrape, if anybody would. He'll be willing to
pay you big for it. What do you say to the
job?" "I hardly know what to say," I replied. "I'll
have to consult my partners over at the camp
before I can give an answer. It may be that I
can arrange with them to get away from the wolf
hunting business long enough to do this work for
the lieutenant, but I can't promise it till I con
sult Tom and Jack."
"Well, come back into my office," said Weissel-
199

THE WOLF HUNTERS
baum, "and let me make you acquainted with
Mr. Lang, and you can talk it over with him."
On following him into his back room I was in
troduced to a pleasant-looking young officer of
about twenty-five, who wore the uniform and
shoulder-straps of first lieutenant of cavalry, but
whose appearance showed evidences of dissipa
tion. He seemed pleased to find a man who un
derstood Uncle Sam's ways of transacting business,
and still more gratified when I told him that I
thought possibly I could find means to relieve him
of a part, if not all, of his accountability; which he
knew meant not only the saving of so many dol
lars, but would prevent an official investigation
that might result in his dismissal from the service.
I told him I could not promise to take charge of
his papers and begin on the work until I had con
sulted my partners. He would pay me a hundred
dollars, he said, to make the effort and do what I
could for him, and two hundred if I succeeded in
clearing him of all his accountability and put his
company papers in good shape, so that his com
pany clerk could thereafter keep them straight.
I promised him that I would return in a day or
two probably prepared to go to work on his ac
counts. This so pleased him that he called for a
bottle of champagne, in which, however, I de
clined joining him and retired, leaving him and
Weisselbaum drinking the wine.
Jack and I had seen enough of the rawness of
200

VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
these volunteers to fully corroborate Tom's re
ports, and as we drove back to camp I informed
my comrade of the proposition I had received for
straightening out the tangles in which the lieuten
ant had involved himself.
"How long's it going to take you?" he asked.
"About two or three weeks, I think," I replied.
"Well, of course we'll let you off for that long,
in consideration of the big pay you'll be getting."
When we got to camp and I had stated the
proposition to Tom, he replied promptly:
"Jump onto it, by all means. You won't often
find such chances as that for making money lay-
in' around loose on the plains or anywhere else.
That's big money for a little work. Jack an' me'll
give you a leave of absence long enough to make
yourself a nice little wad on the side."
"No, Tom," I answered. "I won't have it that
way. We have agreed, all along, that this is a full
partnership of the firm of Vance, Flannigan &
Peck and that whatever we make or lose we are
to share equally. Jack insisted on this rule when
he captured Black Prince, and I shall insist that
whatever I make on this work shall be turned into
the general fund."
"Well, suit yourself about it," said Tom indif
ferently; "any way to keep peace in the family.
We'll call it detached service you're on, then, in
stead of a leave of absence."
The matter being settled, next day I rode Prince
20 1

THE WOLF HUNTERS
over to the fort and began looking up material to
begin the work in hand. By searching the ad
jutant's office and quartermaster's store I found
the requisite blanks and books for opening up a
full set of company accounts, including muster
and pay rolls, for I found the lieutenant had little
or nothing in the way of papers except the invoices
of property he had received. Having duly estab
lished an office in one of Lang's rooms and got
everything ready for business, I said to the lieu
tenant :
"Now, Mr. Lang, in order that you may get
the full benefit of my services in this work, it is
best that you have your first sergeant and com
pany clerk in attendance here whenever they can
be spared from their other duties, and let me be
instructing them, so that they can continue the
work after I get things straightened out for them."
"A good idea," he admitted. "I'll go over to
his office and have a chat with the sergeant about
it, and if he thinks he'd like to learn your style
of keeping accounts I'll invite him to come over
and see how you do it and bring his clerk along."
"Why, lieutenant," I said in some surprise at
this evidence of slack discipline, "I thought you
were in command of the company."
"So I am; so I am. Why?"
"Well, in that case, it's your place to order the
attendance of your sergeant and clerk and their
place to obey promptly." 202

VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
"Yes, yes. That's the way you do in the regu
lars, I suppose; but, you know, we ain't so par
ticular in the volunteers, and I find it's best to
keep on good terms with my first sergeant 'cause
he'll make trouble for me if I cross him."
"Well, excuse me; I forgot myself," I replied
with ill-concealed disgust. "I wasn't employed
by you to teach you discipline. But if you can
persuade your sergeant to come over, I'll see if I
can interest him in these papers."
But the sergeant refused to take instructions
from "one of them swell-headed regulars who
think they know it all." The company clerk,
however, cheerfully placed himself under my tute
lage and picked up the work rapidly.
By taking invoices of the property Lieutenant
Lang had on hand and comparing them with the
invoices of what he had received, I soon found
what was deficient. I then set his men to work
looking about the post and gathering up, from
among the rubbish and castaway property aban
doned by the outgoing garrison, every old article
of quartermaster's and ordnance stores and camp
and garrison equipage that could be found. I
then asked the lieutenant to call on the command
ing officer for a board of survey, who inspected
and condemned the stuff and ordered it burned,
thereby relieving Lang of his accountability for it.
There was still a considerable shortage of arms
and things that I could not pick up about the post
203

THE WOLF HUNTERS
and get condemned, but, on learning that this com
pany had been engaged in a skirmish with the
rebels in Missouri recently, I covered a consider
able deficit on the returns as "lost in action," on
the affidavits of soldiers, and accounted for some
other stuff as legitimately "worn out or expended
in the public service."
By these and other methods usually resorted to
in the regular service to cover deficiencies I soon
had Lieutenant Lang's accountability reduced to
the property he actually had on hand; and, while
doing so, instructed his company clerk so that
thereafter he could easily keep the accounts in safe
shape. My work for Lang attracted considerable at
tention from the other company commanders and
they soon got to dropping in to consult me in re
gard to making out papers and all sorts of mili
tary matters.
At the expiration of my contract, Lieutenant
Lang cheerfully paid me the two hundred dollars —
which I deposited with Weisselbaum to the credit
of the firm — and expressed himself as glad to get
out of his recent dilemma so cheaply.
While at this work I was often one of the busiest
men about the post. These officers, though inex
perienced, were gentlemanly fellows, and not hav
ing had that regular army legend ground into them
about the impassable gulf between the enlisted
man and the commissioned officer, though know-
204

VOLUNTEER TROOPS AT LARNED
ing that I had but recently been a private soldier,
treated me as an equal. Even the major com
manding often consulted me on technical affairs,
and offered to use his influence to procure me a
commission in the regiment if I would join his
command, which kind offer I declined with thanks.
I had made up my mind not to bind myself to
Uncle Sam again, though — after this wolf hunting
campaign — I planned to enter the service as a
scout or wagon-master or in some civilian capac
ity that would give me more freedom than as a
soldier or officer.

205

CHAPTER XVIII
BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
r\URING the time I had been at work on
¦*-^ Lieutenant Lang's papers there had been an
other heavy snow, but it had soon passed off.
Tom had come over to the fort once or twice, re
porting all serene at Camp Coyotelope; and about
the time I had finished my job and was preparing
to return to wolf skinning, Wild Bill and John
Adkins came into the post, returning from the
main Kiowa camp by way of old To hausen's vil
lage on Walnut Creek.
"When are you going over to Camp Coyote
lope?" asked Bill after first greetings.
"To-morrow morning," I replied.
"Well, I've got to make my report to the com
manding officer an' turn in my pack-mule," said
the scout, "an' if there's nothing special for me
to do here right away I reckon I'll ride over with
you an' take a few square meals with the boys."
"All right," I replied. "I'll be glad to have you
go along with me. Will Adkins come, too?"
"No. He says he's got to go back to Rath's
ranch in the morning, soon as he can get his
206

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
voucher from the quartermaster for this trip an'
get it cashed at Weisselbaum's."
"So this new quartermaster is short of green
backs and has to pay off in vouchers, hey?"
"Yes, an' Weisselbaum only discounts 'em
twenty-five cents on the dollar. But I won't sell
my voucher at any such robbery figures. I don't
need the money very bad here, an' so I'll just let
it stand till the quartermaster gets the funds, or
if he don't get the truck by spring I'll take my
vouchers to Fort Leavenworth where I can get
all they call for."
Finding nothing requiring his immediate at
tendance at the post, Bill easily obtained permis
sion to go over to our camp, notifying the quarter
master where he could be found in case he was
needed. As we rode along he told me about his trip to
Satank's village.
"As I expected, we picked up the Kiowas' trail
over on the Smoky Hill, followed it up, an' found
'em in a snug-timbered camp over on the Solomon.
They'd moved to this camp from another one a
few miles up the river since the blizzard, because
while that big snow was on the ground they'd had
to chop down all the cottonwood-trees about that
camp to furnish feed for their ponies and in case of
another big snow catching 'em in the same camp,
the feed there would have been pretty scarce. An'
they'd just about got settled down in the new camp
207

THE WOLF HUNTERS
when this last snow come on. Me and Adkins
were in luck, too, for this last snow come next day
after we reached the Injun camp; an' during all
the time it lay on the ground me and John were
making ourselves as agreeable an' comfortable as
possible in ol' Satank's lodge. I knew what a
sour ol' cuss he is, an' the best way to get on the
good side of him an' find out what he is up to
was to go right to his tepee, an' let on that we'd
come to pay him a special visit.
"We found that the Injuns didn't have much
of anything to eat but meat, so we brought out
our sugar an' coffee an' hardtack an' bacon an'
treated the ol' man an' his family to some extra
good grub — for them; an' I'd took along some
beads an' colored handkerchiefs an' trinkets for the
women an' youngsters. But, sir, that durned old
rascal would eat my chuck an' take presents, all
right, but when I'd try to pump him he was the
most ignorant Injun you ever saw — I couldn't get
a thing out of him. But then I didn't expect to
find out much from Satank himself, for I know
him of old.
"I made friends with Satanta and Big Tree, too,
an' gave them some presents, an' now an' then
invited 'em over to headquarters to smoke an'
eat an' drink coffee with us, but they were pretty
foxy, too, and didn't seem to know anything when
I tried the pump on them. So when I found the
head men were so close-mouthed I dropped them
208

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
an' let on as though I wasn't seeking for informa
tion; but I made myself solid with the women by
making them presents of a lot of little trinkets,
an' I knew if I went about it in an offhand way
they'd tell me all they knew, for, you know, I can
talk their language just like a Kiowa.
"It pleases them women for a white man to take
notice of 'em an' talk to 'em an' be sociable like,
for their own men don't pay 'em much atten
tion. "I soon found out about all the women knew,
which wasn't much, however; but from what I
picked up amongst 'em, an' from the general
signs, the head men ain't a-feeling very friendly
toward the whites, an' as soon as grass comes in
the spring I suspect we'll have trouble with 'em."
"Do you think they'll go on the war-path,
Bill?" I asked.
"No, I don't think they'll go to war openly or
in a body, but they'll probably scout around in
little bands, watchin' their chances an' doing a
little mischief here an' there on the sly, whenever
they see a good chance to dodge in, hit a lick, an'
dodge out again without making an open rupture.
But they promised to come down to Fort Larned,
as soon as the grass begins to come in the spring,
to have a powwow with the officers an' Injun
agent, 'cause there's a chance of some presents in
that, an' they're always ready to take all they can
get an' more, too." 209

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"What seems to be their principal grievance
against the white men?" I asked.
"Well, it's the old song about the white men
killing off their game. But, then, we all know
that's just an excuse, for the game on the plains
is plenty enough for all an' what little the whites
get away with ain't missed. Of course, if they
were to come around here an' see how many buffalo
bones you fellows are leaving on the prairie they
might think you were getting more than your
share. But you've got just as much right to kill
buffalo an' wolves, or any other game, as the In
juns have. Anyway, it ain't likely they'll get down
this way before grass comes, an' you fellows'll be
done skinning wolves an' gone before that time."
"I hope so," I replied. "I have no desire to
renew my acquaintance with Satank. How about
old To hausen, Bill; is he still camped at the same
place?" "Yes, his band was still camped about twenty
or twenty-five miles down Walnut Creek from
your camp; but To hausen was getting ready to
move up your way, too, an' I reckon by this time
he's moved. I told him about you fellows a-poi-
soning wolves and that you were particular friends
of mine, an' asked him not to move up close
enough to you to bother your work, an' he prom
ised me he would keep far enough away so's not to
trouble you. He's a pretty good ol' Injun, To
hausen is, an' he's always been a good friend of
210

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
mine, an' I'm sure he'll not let any of his people
interfere with you. Some of his outfit'll be apt
to look you up in a few days, an' if they come to
see you you must treat 'em well."
"Of course we will," I replied, "for we want to
keep on good terms with them."
At Camp Coyotelope, which we reached in time
for dinner, Bill had to repeat to Tom and Jack
all he had told me about his trip to the Kiowa vil
lage. During the afternoon we lounged about
camp and at the approach of evening Jack and I
saddled up and made the round of the wolf baits,
putting out fresh strychnine for the night, and re
turned to camp in time to help demolish an excel
lent supper.
That evening Tom suggested to the scout :
"Bill, while you're here, suppose you an' me
ride down to ol' To hausen's camp to-morrow
to see where he is an' make sure that he ain't
a-crowding on our huntin'-ground — what do you
say?" "It's a whack, Tom; I'll go you!" replied Bill,
"an' we'll have a fair understanding with the ol'
man about how far he's to allow his people to
range up this way."
In the morning they saddled up and started to
go to the Indian camp, but to our surprise Bill and
Tom were back at camp by noon, just as Jack and
I were getting ready for dinner.
"Why, what brought you back so soon?" I
asked as they rode up and dismounted.
211

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Well," replied Tom, as they began unsaddling,
"we found their camp only about eight miles
down the creek — a little closer than I like to have
'em, but the Injuns promised that they wouldn't
hunt up this way any farther or do anything to
drive off the game in our range; but what brought
us back so soon was that when we got there we
found ol' To hausen sick in bed, an' I think he's
threatened with a severe spell of pneumonia; an'
after having a friendly talk with his people and
watching the ol' man's symptoms, I made up my
mind what was the matter with him, and I con
cluded that I'd hurry right back to camp and get
some medicine for him and then go back and try
to fetch the old man out of it. I'm sure he's got
a serious case of lung fever, and if something ain't
done to head it off pretty pronto he'll go up the
spout. I learned a good deal about doctoring
when I was hospital steward, an' I think I've got
everything except one that I need for the treat
ment of this case in my little medicine-chest.
Bill's going back to Fort Larned after dinner, and
I want you to go with him and bring out the med
icine that I'm lacking. You can go over to the
fort this afternoon and get the stuff an' come
back to-morrow forenoon and then bring it down
to the Injun camp to me in the afternoon; for I'll
go right back after dinner and go to work on the
old man and try to head off that fever before it
gets too strong a hold on him."
212

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
As we entered the dugout and sat down to din
ner I thought to ask:
"What medicine is it that you want me to get,
Tom? You forgot to tell me the name of it."
With a mysterious wink at me when Jack was
not looking, he answered :
"I'll write the name of it down on a piece of
paper after dinner. You'd forget it if I told
you. When we went out to saddle up after dinner,
leaving Jack to clean up the dishes, Tom said :
"The medicine I want you to get at the fort is
nothing but a pint of commissary whiskey, but I
didn't want to mention it before Jack. The doc
tors use it in pneumonia as a stimulant, diluted,
an' given in tablespoonful doses. I've got every
thing else I need, and I'll take my little medicine-
chest along with me down to the Injun camp in
case there should be other sick ones that I'd want
something for." Then he added: "You'd better
take Prince to ride over to the fort and back. I
rode him down to the camp, but he'll be good for
your trip. I'll ride ol' Vinegar down to the camp
this time; an' when you get back here to-morrow
you can leave Prince here an' ride the gray mare
or one of the mules down to the camp. By the
way, while I think of it, I must take along a couple
of candles an' a few more matches; for I'll have to
be getting up in the night 'tendin' to the old man,
an' there's no such thing as a light to be had in an
213

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Injun lodge without a body goes to the trouble of
starting up a blaze in the fire.
"I've got to keep on the right side of that old
medicine-man that's doctoring the old chief now,"
said Tom; "aad I'd like to teach him something if
I could." Soon we were ready and started, Bill and I can
tering off on the trail while Tom struck out down
the creek.
On arriving, at Fort Larned, knowing that Lieu
tenant Lang always kept a demijohn of whiskey
in his quarters, I procured a pint bottle of the
"medicine" Tom desired and spent the night at
his quarters.
Just before going to the officers' mess for supper
with Lieutenant Lang that evening, thinking that
it would be an interesting trip for him, I had sug
gested to him that he go out to our camp and see
something of the Kiowas with whom later he
might have some dealings. He declined to go on
the ground that the weather was wintry and the
ride a long one.
Captain Saunders, who was present, expressed
surprise that Lieutenant Lang did not jump at the
chance and said to me:
"Mr. Peck, if I can get leave of absence from
the major, may I accompany you on this trip to
the Indian camp?"
"Certainly, captain," I replied. "I'll be de
lighted to have you go along."
214

BILL RETURNS FROM HIS SCOUT
The captain joined us later and told me that he
had easily obtained the desired permission, but
asked me to say nothing about it to other com
pany officers, lest more of them should wish to go,
for the major didn't think it best to spare more
than one on such an errand.
The next morning we set out and, after a long,
cold ride, reached Camp Coyotelope. During the
whole ride the captain kept plying me with ques
tions about our past frontier service, evidently
wishing to gain all the information he could about
his new line of duty. He was a very pleasant and
gentlemanly, young man, and although ignorant of
military usage, he evinced a commendable eager
ness to inform and qualify himself for his position.

215

CHAPTER XIX
A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
"IX7"E reached the dugout just before noon, and
* * after unsaddling, watering, and feeding our
horses and partaking of a good dinner that Jack
had prepared we saddled up again. I now rode
the gray mustang, as Tom had suggested, and on
one of our mules packed my bedding for the use
of Captain Saunders and myself at the Indian
camp. We struck out down the creek for the
Kiowa camp, I leading the mule and the captain
bringing up the rear. This kind of campaigning
was a revelation to Captain Saunders and seemed
to interest him greatly.
At the Indian camp Tom was anxiously awaiting
me, and seemed surprised to see me accompanied
by the officer, whom I introduced, explaining the
occasion of his visit.
Under the impulse of his long and strict mili
tary training, Tom came to "attention" and sa
luted and seemed somewhat surprised at the
captain's proffered hand. In the regular service
hand-shaking between an officer and a soldier or
ex-soldier would be considered a breach of army
etiquette. Quickly comprehending the situation,
216

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
Tom grasped the extended hand and thereafter
appeared to feel on terms of perfect equality with
the officer.
"I can't allow you to see old To hausen," Tom
explained, "he's too sick to see company; an' I
can't devote much time to your entertainment
myself, captain, but I'll tell the Injuns to try an'
make your visit agreeable; an' you an' Peck'll
have to get along the best you can."
Tom turned to an old Indian, who, he said, was
next in rank to To hausen, and explained to him
in Mexican who we were and the object of our
visit. The old warrior then in a loud voice made
an announcement to the camp in the Kiowa
tongue, after which he repeated to Tom what he
had told his people.
"This old fellow," explained Tom to the cap
tain, "is named Lobo. He told the Indians that
I said: 'These two white men are our good friends.
One of them is a captain of soldiers from the fort.
They heard that our chief was very sick and they
have come all the way from the fort to bring some
more good medicine for To hausen. They are
good men an', Kiowas, you must be good to 'em.
Our camp an' all that we have is at their service.
Make them welcome, Kiowas.'
"Now," continued Tom, "as Lobo says, 'the
camp is yours.' He has given orders to his women
to unsaddle your horses an' unpack your mule,
an' some of the youngsters will drive your animals
217

THE WOLF HUNTERS
out an' put 'em in the herd. He has also ordered
the women to clear out one half of his lodge for
your use, an' your saddles an' beddin' will be car
ried in an' placed there, where you are to sleep.
You are at liberty to go where you please about
the camp, enter any lodge you choose, an' you'll
find 'em all friendly and agreeable; an' you an'
everything you have will be perfectly safe so long
as you are their guest. Now, you'll have to ex
cuse me, for I must go to my patient."
"By the way, how is the old chief?" asked the
captain. "Pretty feeble. His age is against him, for he
must be up in the seventies. I'm getting the
fever pretty well under control, and if he gets no
backset I think I can pull him through. I have
my bed close by him an' I try to keep the lodge
at as even a temperature as possible; but I have
to do most everything myself, for these Injuns
can't be made to savvy how to take care of the
sick. Now, I must go."
After seeing our animals sent out to the herd
and our saddles and bedding taken into Lobo's
lodge, we went inside, spread our bed, and then
took a stroll about camp. Everything here — the
Indians, their dress and habits — was new, strange,
and deeply interesting to Captain Saunders, who
had never before seen a wild Indian.
Noticing To hausen's dilapidated old ambulance
standing near his lodge, I said:
218

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
"Captain, do you see that old government am
bulance?" "Yes," he replied, "and I have been wondering
at it and was going to ask you if many of the In
dians have such vehicles?"
"No. I don't know of another Indian on the
plains who sports an ambulance or any other
wheeled vehicle to ride in. I must tell you how
he came by this one. In the spring of '59 the
Kiowas were becoming restless, and disregarding
the warnings and advice of the old chief, who was
always friendly to the whites, they were inclined
to follow the lead of Satank, who is always un
friendly. They were threatening to go on the
war-path. Our command of four companies of
First Cavalry, under Major John Sedgwick, was
sent out on the plains from Fort Riley with orders
to range along the Arkansas River to try to keep
the Indians in subjection. The Pike's Peak gold
excitement was at its height then, and an out
break of the Indians would be a serious affair.
Old To hausen tried hard to keep the Kiowas
peaceable, but succeeded in holding only this small
band of about a hundred warriors, the rest of the
tribe following Satank. To hausen often visited
our camps and our officers often gave him and
his adherents presents. Our quartermaster, Lieu
tenant James B. Mclntyre, had this old ambu
lance on hand, and, as it was about played out, he
got it condemned by a board and was thinking
219

THE WOLF HUNTERS
of burning it to get rid of the old trap, when it
occurred to him to make a present of it to To
hausen if he would accept it. The old fellow
was very much pleased to think of riding about in
such a rig as our commanding officer sometimes
used. Lieutenant Mclntyre had his blacksmith
put the old rattletrap in serviceable shape; and
then put harness on a pair of the old chief's mus
tangs and had them broken to work by some of
the soldiers and turned the outfit over to To
hausen. But neither he nor any of his men could
learn to use the lines and, after a few efforts they
dispensed with the lines altogether, and, putting
a boy on each bronco of the team, they have since
navigated the ambulance in that shape. Indian
like, they generally travel at a gallop, whether the
ground is smooth or rough, and often break some
thing, but they tie it up with rawhide to hold the
parts together till they can get to Fort Larned or
Fort Lyon, and then the quartermasters have
their men patch it up again for the old man."
As evening approached we returned to the home
of Lobo, where a good fire burning in the centre
of the lodge made it quite comfortable except for
the smoke that nearly blinded us; but by lying
down on our blankets we found we could avoid
this discomfort.
Tom dropped in for a few minutes to see how
we were getting along and to tell us that under
the stimulating influence of the whiskey I had
220

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
brought the old chief was showing a decided
improvement. Two women had for some time been busy cook
ing a meat stew in a kettle that hung over the fire.
After a time I brought out and gave them some
coffee, sugar, and hardtack that I had brought
in my saddle pocket to add to the meal. After
lifting the big kettle off the fire, the women, with
a great horn spoon, ladled out a dishful of the
stew to each of the guests first, and then to Lobo.
We ate hungrily. Lobo was the last one to
"throw up the sponge" and announce his perfect
satisfaction by a prolonged Indian grunt, and
then as he leaned back against a pile of bedding,
he added: "Muy wano!"
Before eating I had handed a plug of tobacco
to Lobo, who had whittled off enough to fill a
great red-stone pipe and then returned the plug
to me. I tried to induce him to keep the plug,
but he declined. As Tom had intimated would
be the case, a number of men dropped in after
supper to call on Lobo and his white visitors, and
the big red pipe was then brought out, lit with a
coal of fire, and put on its travels, each taking a
puff and passing it to the next.
The Indians evidently appreciated the free
tobacco I was furnishing, for the pipe was soon
smoked out, refilled, and emptied again and again,
till all were fully sated. After this some talk was
indulged in, and then the visitors went out one
221

THE WOLF HUNTERS
by one, till only the captain and I and Lobo's
family remained. Saunders and I soon after re
moved our coats and boots and turned in.
During the evening the woman had carried in
several armfuls of wood and piled it convenient
to the fire in the centre of the lodge, and, the
weather being quite cold, she got up several times
during the night to replenish the fire.
Saunders and I were both awake by daylight,
but, as our host and his family and the dogs still
seemed soundly sleeping, we kept our bed for
a time to avoid disturbing them. Finally, old
Lobo crawled out and, wrapping his buffalo robe
around him, went outside the lodge. In a few
minutes we heard him, in a loud voice, haranguing
the camp, and a few minutes later the camp was
all astir.
After breakfast, on telling Lobo that we wished
to return to our camp, two of his boys drove the
herd into camp and roped our animals, which
were quickly saddled and packed.
I took the remains of the plug of tobacco and
the packages of sugar, coffee, and hardtack out
of our saddle pockets, carried them into Lobo's
lodge, and laid them down.
Captain Saunders, feeling disposed to reward
the two boys for taking care of our animals, of
fered each a silver half dollar. Their young eyes
brightened at sight of the money, for they knew it
would buy them something nice at the trader's
222

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
store, but a hesitating glance at Lobo seemed to
decide them to refuse the proffered gifts, and with
a pleasant, "No quiero, senor" ("Don't want
it, sir"), which their looks belied, they turned
away. "Give them to me, captain," I said, "and I'll
place them where they won't reject the money."
I carried the two silver pieces into the lodge and
put them with the other things. No objection was
made to my leaving these presents where they
could be found, but Indian hospitality forbade
them openly to accept gifts from a guest.
At dinner Jack proposed that Captain Saunders
and he should go out that afternoon and kill some
buffalo and put out some poison. The captain
was eager to go, for he was quite without experi
ence in this form of sport. After Saunders was
armed, equipped, and mounted he and Jack rode
away and I turned to and attended to the dinner
dishes. It was near sunset when they got back to camp,
reporting that they had killed and poisoned some
buffalo, and Captain Saunders had killed also an
antelope, the carcass of which he had tied on be
hind his saddle and brought in.
"L'ave the captain alone for the makin's of a
plainsman," exclaimed Jack as he dismounted
and began unsaddling. "He'll need but little
more instruction from any of us. He catches
on quick. He'll soon be like an old hand at the
223

THE WOLF HUNTERS
business. An' that horse of his is all right, too.
Ain't a bit afeard of a buffalo an' goes at 'em like
he was used to it."
"Possibly the captain has had more experience
of this kind," I suggested inquiringly, "than we
have supposed."
"Not a bit of it," replied Saunders. "This is ac
tually my first glimpse of frontier life; but I have
always been interested in such matters and have
read everything I could find on the subject and
have talked to old plainsmen and in that way
have acquired some ideas of such things. I wish
I could stay with you a week or two and hunt
buffalo and antelope, for it is noble sport; but this
isn't what Uncle Sam is paying me for, and I must
go back to Fort Larned to-morrow. Still, I con
sider this time well spent, for the experience I am
getting out here is certainly valuable to one who
expects to do service on the plains."
"We shall be sorry to lose your company, cap
tain," I replied; "but, if you are going in to-mor
row, why not take your antelope along as a trophy
of the trip ? The weight will not be much, and we
can fit it behind the cantle of your saddle and tie
it on so it will ride nicely."
"Yes," added Jack, "but that will have to be
done to-night, for it'll freeze hard before morning,
and then you can't fit it on. I'll fix it now."
He placed Saunders's saddle upon some sacks of
grain, bent the antelope carcass to fit snugly be-
224

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP
hind the cantle, tying the feet down to the cinch
rings, and left it to freeze in that position.
After supper Jack played the fiddle awhile, and
we sang some songs; but Saunders seemed more
interested in drawing us out to tell of our soldier
experiences on the frontier and kept us yarn
spinning till late bedtime. In the morning, after
breakfast, he struck the trail for Fort Larned.

225

CHAPTER XX
WE TRADE WITH INDIANS
T?OR the next week or two, although the weather
¦*- had turned stormy, Jack and I put in all the
time we could at poisoning and skinning wolves.
It was now getting well along in February — near
ing the close of the season for taking pelts. We
had already taken about twenty-five hundred
and were anxious to make our winter's catch an
even three thousand before quitting.
Tom's patient, old To hausen, had so far re
covered that Tom had returned to our camp, but
still made an occasional visit to the Kiowa vil
lage, where, on account of his success in treating
the old chief and others, his services as medicine
man were now much sought by the afflicted In
dians, to the utter neglect of old Broken Nose,
their own medicine-man, who seemed jealous of
Tom's popularity.
One day Jack had gone out alone, riding old
Vinegar the buckskin bronco, to kill some buffalo,
and in a short time he came back to camp afoot,
carrying his saddle and bridle.
"What's happened? Where's Vinegar?" we
asked anxiously. 226

WE TRADE WITH INDIANS
"Vinegar's done for — dead," he answered as he
threw down the saddle and bridle, "an' I'm in big
luck myself to be here to tell it; It was this way:
I was chasin' a bull, an' shot him but had got too
close or the bronco was too slow turnin' to get
away — anyway the bull got his head under Vine
gar an' heaved both him an' me into the air, an' we
come down in a heap; but by good luck the buffalo
went on without stopping fo make further fight,
or he might easy have finished both of us. I
scrambled to my feet, Vinegar still lying where he
fell, with his paunch ripped open an' entrails hang
ing out. With a great effort he got up onto his
feet, but his insides were hanging to the ground,
and there he stood a-looking at me pleading like
an' a-groaning as much as to ask me to put him
out of his misery, which was all I could do for
him; so I put my pistol to his head and finished
him." On Tom's next trip to the Kiowa camp, on
mentioning to old To hausen the bronco's being
killed, the old chief had his herd driven in, and
selecting a good pony — one he had used in his
ambulance and so knew its working qualities — he
insisted on Tom's taking it to replace Vinegar.
About this time, the weather having apparently
settled for a mild spell, Captain Saunders and Wild
Bill came over from the post on their way to the
Kiowa village.
Since returning from nursing the old chief, Tom
227

THE WOLF HUNTERS
had said little about the ill feeling that he had
stirred up in old Broken Nose, the Kiowa medi
cine-man, but, overhearing a conversation be
tween him and Wild Bill, I learned that Tom was
feeling uneasy about this. He suspected that
Broken Nose had sent a message to Satank which,
he feared, boded us no good. He asked Bill to
try to find out something about it.
After their return next day, at supper Tom in
formed us that while at To hausen's camp Bill
had discovered that old Broken Nose had really
sent to Satank a secret message, the bearer of
which had not returned. Bill could not learn
what the message was, but from the old Indian's
evident hostility toward Tom, and from certain
unfriendly remarks he had been heard to make
concerning our killing so many buffalo and other
game, there were good reasons to suspect that his
purpose was to stir up Satank's well-known ani
mosity toward the whites in general, and direct
his attention to us in particular, in order to even
up with Tom by bringing the hostiles down on us.
Some of To hausen's people had told Bill, in a
friendly way, to warn us to be sure to close up our
work and get away from here, or else look out for
trouble from Satank's band as soon as the new
grass began to come; but they did not seem to
think that Satank's horses would be in condition
for him and his warriors to make a raid on us be
fore the grass got up. 228

WE TRADE WITH INDIANS
The fact that a few of To hausen's followers
denied the report that Broken Nose was trying
to make trouble for us led Bill to conclude that
some of them were not so friendly to us as they
pretended. After stating the situation, Tom
went on: "Bill says it ain't likely that Satank will
be in a condition to make any move for two or
three weeks yet, and by that time we'll be done
skinning wolves and out of here; but there's a pos
sibility that the old rascal may make a forced
march, in order to catch us before we can get
away. In that case we may have to fight. He
might be able to find a few of his ponies that are
able to travel and mount a party of his men and
ride over here to see what we're doing; or, if he
and his bucks get very anxious for a row, they
might make the trip afoot. Anyway, from now
on, we've got to keep a sharp lookout for Injuns
or fresh signs in this neighborhood, an' also a close
watch of To hausen's camp; for if Satank should
come over this way he'd be apt to go there first
thing. To hausen himself an' most of his people
are friendly to us, but it's more'n likely that some
of 'em'll be ready to give Satank any information
about us that he wants."
Wild Bill had seemed rather serious and thought
ful this night — and it was so uncommon for him to
remain serious long at a time that it attracted my
attention — and as we were about to turn in he
remarked : 229

THE WOLF HUNTERS
" Boys, as Tom says, it's best to be prepared for
emergencies, and if anything serious should hap
pen to you, such as Satank an' his warriors a-loom-
ing up of a sudden and a-jumping your camp or
corralling you, an' you could manage to send word
to me, the captain an' I'll mount some of his sol
diers and come right over. Now, I'll tell you how
you can send me word" — untying a bead necklace
which he wore around his neck. "I'll leave this
with you. Hang it somewheres handy, and if you
have need of help just write a few words on a slip
of paper, de it 'round the necklace, then hold the
necklace to Found's nose and let him get the scent;
then tie it 'round his neck, point to the fort, and
say to him: 'Go to Bill!' He'll savvy, for he's
been trained to it, and he'll go a-flying till he gets
to my quarters. Now, mind you, you may not
have any occasion to send for me at all; you're
likely to finish up your wolf skinning an' get away
from here before Satank gets around; but if any
thing should happen that you need us, do as I've
told you, an' we'll come a-curling and help you
out. Is it a whack, Cap?" appealing to Saun
ders. "It is," replied the captain, "and to be prepared
for such a call — though I hope they'll have no oc
casion to make it — I'll have an understanding with
the major when I get back, so that if it should
come in the night I will be allowed to take my
company out of the post as quickly as possible,
230

WE TRADE WITH INDIANS
without calling on him or disturbing the rest of
the garrison."
"That's a good idea," added Bill. "It'll save
a heap of time."
"Well," said old Tom, "we'll try an' not put
the captain an' Bill to so much trouble unless it's
a case of dire necessity. I hardly think that Sa
tank will make war on us, an' if he should, we're
pretty well fixed for fighting an' can give him a
good tussle before we call on our neighbors for
help." "I'm not scared about it," replied Bill, "an' I
know you boys ain't, for this is just an emergency
arrangement. But I tell you right now, Tom, if
there's any fighting an' you don't give me a show
I won't like you for it."
I took the bead necklace and hung it in a con
spicuous place on the wall, little thinking that we
would ever have occasion to use it, and sincerely
hoping that we would not; but I felt that both Bill
and Tom, who understood Indian ways best, really
anticipated trouble with them and were mentally
preparing to meet it.
After the departure of our guests next morning
each of us went about his accustomed duties as
usual. After several days had passed and nothing had
occurred to arouse our uneasiness we gradually
regained our accustomed assurance, but I know
that while out hunting or skinning wolves I was
231

THE WOLF HUNTERS
more keenly watchful than formerly, and sev
eral times on returning to camp I had noticed Tom
coming down from the nearest bluff with the field-
glass in his hand, indicating that he had been
scanning the surrounding country.
I noticed, too, that lately, whenever the team
was sent over to the fort, in addition to the usual
batch of baled wolfskins, Tom was now sending
other stuff, such as surplus grain and provisions —
anything, in fact, that could be dispensed with in
the camp and reduce our outfit, as he said, to
"light marching order," for we thought now in a
couple of weeks more we would be ready to break
up camp and go in.
Of the three, Jack was by far the most indiffer
ent, for, as he said, "It's time enough to bid the
divil good morning when you meet him."
Since To hausen's band had located near us we
had had frequent visits from some of his people,
when the weather was fair, and had struck up
quite a profitable trade with them for buffalo
robes, dressed deer and antelope skins, with a few
otter, beaver, panther, wildcat skins, and the like,
paying for them in coffee, sugar, flour, or tobacco.
And since returning from his attendance on the
old chief Tom made it a point to visit him every
few days, ostensibly to see how the old fellow was
getting along, but more particularly to try to find
out if any intercourse was passing between Sa
tank's band and To hausen's. 232

WE TRADE WITH INDIANS
To hausen seemed sincere in his efforts to be
friend Tom and, so far as he could, kept Tom in
formed; but for obvious reasons he had to be secret
about it. Not much going and coming between
the two bands was to be expected, however, for
the weather was still quite severe and stormy a
great part of the time, the distance between the
two camps considerable, and Indian ponies at this
season of the year were poor and weak.
In our traffic with the old chief's people we had
given them a liberal exchange for their skins and
peltries — far more than they would have received
from the traders — we being satisfied with about
one hundred per cent, profit on the goods we traded
them instead of three to four hundred per cent, as
was the custom with men regularly engaged in the
trade. The Indians were not slow to see that we were
giving them more for their stuff than they usually
received from the traders, and our commerce with
them increased. Soon we found that we were
gathering in so much of this material that it be
came a serious question how we were going to
smuggle it into our storeroom at Fort Larned, or
beyond there, without Weisselbaum's knowledge,
or, in case we sold our skins to him, how to ac
count for those we had traded from the Indians.
He had a trader's license from the government,
and we had nothing of the kind. According to
law, we were trespassing on his rights, in which
233

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the commanding officer at Fort Larned was in
duty bound to protect him. When we began
trading with the Indians we had not thought of
these difficulties, but, having got into it, we deter
mined to bluff it out and trust to luck for some
future plan to suggest itself to us for getting
through.

234

CHAPTER XXI
JACK'S CLOSE CALL
f"\N the plains a prairie fire is always something
^-^ to be dreaded, for with the usual breeze, which
often amounts to a gale, a fire in heavy, dry grass
is almost invariably uncontrollable and a source
of terror to the luckless traveller who happens to
be in its track.
Such a fire originates most commonly from the
embers of a camp-fire — left by some careless or
inexperienced traveller — blown by a rising wind
out into the adjacent dry grass or, in the spring
of the year, by fires purposely set out in the old
grass by the Indians to clear the ground for the
next crop.
An essay might be written on prairie fires and
the dangers from them and on the best means of
fighting them. I have now only to tell of how
one of us was caught in one.
For the next few days after Wild Bill and Cap
tain Saunders had left us we were all busy taking
in wolf pelts. The season was fast passing, and
we yet lacked several hundred skins of the three
thousand that we had declared that we would
gather before quitting. 235

THE WOLF HUNTERS
One cold, windy day, when a gale was blowing
from the northwest, Jack started out alone and
afoot — he said it was too cold and windy to ride —
to kill a few buffalo wolf baits.
Crossing the creek below the beaver dam, to
look for buffalo in the prairie beyond, he soon
passed out of sight, while Tom and I busied our
selves taking up the dried skins and baling them.
We heard the report of Jack's carbine occasionally
and knew by the direction of the sounds that he
was to windward of camp — about northwest.
After Jack had been out for some time Tom
took the field-glass and went up onto the bluff
south of our camp, from which he could view the
prairie north of the creek.
He gazed long and intently through the glass in
Jack's direction and presently started back to
camp on a run.
I knew that something unusual was up. We
had heard no uncommon firing from Jack, but, on
seeing Tom hurrying down the hill, my thought
was : " Indians about or Jack's in trouble." Drop
ping my work, I rushed down into the dugout,
seized both rifles, and, with a few blocks of car
tridges, ran back up onto the bank again, looking
first toward Tom and then to the timber north of
us. There was no sign or sound of an enemy.
When the old man arrived, breathless from run
ning, he noted my preparations for war and gasped
out as fast as he could catch his breath:
236

JACK'S CLOSE CALL
"No! no Injuns! See the big smoke over the
tree tops? Prairie's all afire out that way! Com
in' fast! I'm afraid Jack's caught in it. I saw
him just before I noticed the fire. He was out
in the bottom 'bout midway between the timber
and the lodge-pole trail, a-working on a buffalo
he'd killed, and just then I noticed a lone Injun
riding along the trail the other side of Jack; and
I saw the infernal rascal halt when he got right to
windward of Jack, and dismount and squat down
in the grass; and then come a puff of smoke and
the prairie was afire. And then the Injun got on
his pony and galloped along the trail a piece and
fired the grass again. And this he repeated several
times. The cuss had seen Jack and fired the grass
to try to burn him up, and I'm afraid he's done it,
for I don't see how Jack could escape without he
could fly, for when I left the bluff the fires had all
run together and were a-coming toward Jack like
a race-horse, in a wall of flames that seemed to
leap twenty feet high at times."
"What can we do, Tom?" I asked. "Can't we
do something to help him?"
"I don't see what we can do," replied the old
man with a look of despair, "but you run down to
the stable and clap the saddle onto Prince, and
be ready to go and look for what's left of him soon
as the fire burns out. It'll stop when it gets to
the creek and quick as the smoke clears away so's
you can stand it, you be ready to light out."
237

THE WOLF HUNTERS
I rushed to the stable and he followed me, talk
ing as I saddled up.
"Near as I could make him out through the
glass, I believe it's that infernal old Broken Nose
that's done this job. It looked some like him
and I noticed he climbed on and off his pony like
an old man."
I soon had Prince saddled and led him up onto
the bank, where we impatiently waited what
seemed an endless time but was really only a few
minutes. The fire was now roaring and crackling just be
yond the strip of timber bordering the creek. The
smoke would probably have been stifling in our
camp by this time, but on striking the timber the
wind had given it an upward pitch that sent most
of it above us.
The fire kept up such a roaring and rushing noise
that I began to fear that the wind might carry
some of it across the creek, but as soon as it entered
the timber on the north side, where the grass was
shorter, a marked subsidence was apparent.
I mounted and moved up to the south bank of
the creek, anxious to be off on my search for Jack,
but a dense cloud of smoke and flying ashes
whirled through the trees from the burnt ground
for some minutes after the fire seemed to have ex
hausted its fury, and, impatient as I was, I yet
had to wait before venturing to enter the burnt
district. As soon as I could endure it I crossed
238

JACK'S CLOSE CALL
the creek and started, still half blinded and choked
by the flying smoke and ashes, which so obscured
my vision that I could see but a short distance
ahead. The fire now was all gone except here and
there, a few buffalo-chips still burning, but the hot
smoke-and-ashes-laden air was stifling.
I struck a gallop, to hurry through the worst
part of the ground, and soon began to get out into
a little clearer atmosphere, and was greatly re
joiced to see Jack coming toward me though yet
some distance off. I noticed that though he was
coming with the wind he walked unsteadily, as
though nearly exhausted, stopping now and then
to sit down and rest. The air was yet so murky
that he had not noticed me until I came near him,
when, staggering to his feet from an old buffalo
skull he had been sitting on, he waved his hand
weakly and tried to whoop, but the effort set him
to coughing as he halted and leaned on his rifle.
As I reached him I noticed that his wolfskin over
coat that he wore at starting from camp was miss
ing and his other clothes were much soiled, ap
parently having been wet in places, coated with
adhering soot and ashes, and now frozen by the
cold wind.
"Why, Jack!" I exclaimed as I reined up and
dismounted, "how in the world did you live
through the fire? And how did you get your
clothes wet ? "
"In the buffalo," he answered as he again began
coughing. 239

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"In what?" I asked in perplexity. "In a buf
falo?" As he attempted to explain, still coughing, I in
terrupted him with :
"Never mind, Jack; don't try to talk. I savvy.
Here, let me help you on Prince, and when we get
to camp you can tell us all about it."
Helping him on the horse, I walked alongside of
him to camp, but insisted that he should not try
to talk until his lungs got clear of the smoke and
ashes he had inhaled.
When he had answered my questions as to how
he had escaped the fire and got his clothes wet by
replying, "In the buffalo," I was at first puzzled;
but gradually the explanation dawned on me. He
had tried the exploit I had read of to him and Tom
the other night out of Cooper's "The Prairie."
On reaching camp I hurriedly told Tom of
Jack's exploit and his condition and suggested
that no questions be asked for the present. We
helped him into the dugout and put him to bed.
I explained to Tom how, as I conjectured, Jack
had escaped the fire but the Irishman was not in
a condition to tell us about that, though it was
with difficulty that we kept him from trying to
talk. By the next forenoon our Irishman was able to
talk without much difficulty.
"Well, sir," he began in a weak voice, "I be
lieve it's the closest call I've had this long time,
240

JACK'S CLOSE CALL
and I never want to get into such another tight
place, where breath is so scarce. I'd killed the
buffalo and begun ripping open the hide to skin it
back, and just then I got a smell of grass a-burning,
and, looking up, I saw in a jiffy what a trap I was
in and no way out of it unless I could fly. Sud
denly I thought of that skame that Peck read
about the other night, and in a minute I was cut
ting and slashing in blood up to my shoulders.
"I ripped open the throat and cut off the wind
pipe and cut loose everything around the lights
inside as far as I could reach. Then I started in
behind the brisket and ripped open the belly and
reached in and got a holt of the windpipe and
begun pulling the entrails back, and all the time
I was too busy to look up to see how nigh the fire
was a-getting; but I knew by the smoke thick
around me and the roar of the fire that I didn't
have any time to fool away.
"When I got the in'ards dragged out I placed
my wolfskin coat over the opening I'd made in
the breast and then propped up the short ribs and
flank with me carbine so's I could crawl in, and
in I went, pulling my carbine in after me; and
none too soon, either, for the fire was roaring
around me and I could smell the wool a-burning
in a second after I'd got inside.
"And then's when I begun to smell hell for
sure! The little bit of fresh air that was inside
the buffalo soon gave way to hot smoke, and oh,
241

THE WOLF HUNTERS
man! it was horrible! I hope I may never come
so nigh suffocation again.
"After the fire had passed and I began to
breathe again, I felt weak and all gone, like I
hadn't strength enough to crawl out of the carcass.
I wondthered whether you would ever find my re
mains. I laid there awhile and by and by I began
to feel better, and then I crawfished out back
wards. After shaking myself together I says to
myself, says I, 'Never say die, Jacky boy! You're
better than two dead men yet, so you are!' And
picking up my carbine I made a brave stagger for
camp, but if you hadn't met me with the horse
it's a long time I'd 'a' been getting here, so I
would."

242

CHAPTER XXII
SATANK ARRIVES
T^ARLY March found us closing up our affairs
-^ at the camp, preparatory to starting back tc
the settlements. We had succeeded in taking a
few more than our three thousand wolfskins; and
in addition to these we would have nearly a wagon-*
ful of bales of the dressed buffalo robes and other
skins we had traded for with To hausen's people,
together with the beaver, otter, antelope, and other
pelts we had taken in our camp.
We had hauled all our baled wolfskins over to
Fort Larned and stored them there as fast as they
accumulated, but retained in camp for the last
load our otter and beaver skins and the peltries
we had gotten from the Indians; for we thought it
best not to bring these latter under the notice of
Weisselbaum, for fear he should make trouble for
us for encroaching on his Indian trade.
As a prospective buyer he had kept close watch
of our wolfskins, as we stored them, and was anx
ious to buy our whole catch; but we had stood
him off, saying that we thought we could do better
with them in Leavenworth. We had heard that
243

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Kitchen's freighting train from New Mexico was
on the road, going in empty, and would pass
Fort Larned in a few days, and had decided that
if we could not get Weisselbaum up to our figures,
we would ship them in that way.
After an early dinner, Tom and Jack had started
for the fort with the mule team, taking a partial
load of the last of our wolfskins — a half dozen
bales — and some camp plunder.
I do not think that my comrades were as much
alarmed as I was at the thought of the hostiles
dropping in on us. They seemed to be borrowing
no trouble on that account and, for fear of being
ridiculed by them for my cowardly fears, I had
kept my thoughts on this subject to myself.
On this day we had all seemed unusually jolly;
even Tom's grim features occasionally relaxed into
a pleasant smile at some sally from our wild Irish
man. Our spirits were high, for we had grown
tired of buffalo hunting and wolf skinning, with all
the attendant hardships and excitements, and were
now eager to get back into "God's country" with
our profitable cargo of skins, to reap the reward of
our winter's hard work.
As I stood looking after Tom and Jack as they
drove away, I thought: "To-morrow they'll be
back, and the next morning we'll load up the last
of our camp outfit and will soon be beyond the
reach of Satank and his crowd."
While still standing on top of our dugout
244

SATANK ARRIVES
watching the receding wagon a growl from Found,
at my feet, caused me to look down at him; and
following the direction of his look, down the ravine
toward the timber, I saw an Indian boy afoot
stealthily approaching, every now and then casting
furtive glances behind him as though fearful that
he might be seen by some one in the timber. I at
once recognized the boy as one of To hausen's
sons and, quieting the dog, awaited his approach.
Following a path skirting the edge of the water
in the ravine, when he had reached the platform
between our dugouts, he again looked cautiously
about and beckoned me to come down where he
stood. When I neared him he said in his broken English :
"To hausen, my fadder, he say tell you, 'look
out! Satank comin'!'"
And then asked, looking anxiously into my face:
"You savvy?"
"Yes, but where? When?" I hastened to ask
excitedly. "Kin savvy senor," replied the boy, "that all
To hausen, he say, that all; 'look out, Satank
comin'!' Pretty pronto, I 'speck. Now I mus'
vamose. Satank he see me here, he kill me."
And quickly turning he sneaked down the ravine
till he reached the brush and disappeared.
To say that I was alarmed at the sudden shock
to my recent feeling of confidence is to put it
mildly; but I realized that there was no time to
245

THE WOLF HUNTERS
waste in idle regrets at the unfortunate turn of
affairs. I felt almost helpless and could not de
cide what to do to prepare for the danger.
Rushing into the dugout I seized my carbine
and, going again up onto the dirt roof, I fired sev
eral shots in the hope that possibly the sound might
reach my companions, who were still in sight,
slowly climbing the hill about two miles away. It
was no use — the wind was blowing from them to
me, and they moved steadily on, evidently not
hearing me.
I was hesitating whether to jump on Prince,
ride after them and hurry them back to prepare
for a probable call from the hostiles when a surly
growl and bark from Found drew my attention
another way, and I was almost frightened out of
my wits to see two mounted Indians coming, one
behind the other in single file, along the trail lead
ing from the ford below the beaver dam.
They were on the opposite side of the ravine —
the stable side — so I moved down onto the plat
form between the dugouts, where I would have a
better position, still hoping that they would turn
out to be some of To hausen's people; but a thrill
of something akin to horror ran through me on
looking closely at the foremost Indian when he
had reached the top of the bank a few feet from
me, for I recognized the sinister countenance of
Satank. To let him know that I recognized him and
246

SATANK ARRIVES
understood his probable feelings toward me, I
swung my carbine into a threatening position and
called out, "Halt!" at the same time making the
sign to him to stop where he was.
He halted at the command, as did the other In
dian in the rear, and, while keeping a close watch
on both to see that they drew no gun on me, I
demanded in a defiant tone:
"Halloo, Satank, what do you want here?"
Satank made no reply, but motioned his com
panion to his side.
I recognized the man as a half-breed, called Mex
ican Joe, who had sometimes been used as an in
terpreter at Fort Wise. Joe was evidently to act
as interpreter now.
In my defiant attitude and speech I was assum
ing much more self-confidence than I really felt;
but I wished to impress them that I distrusted
them, understood their intentions, and was pre
pared to stand them off or fight. However, neither
of the savages made any threatening movement —
the time was not ripe for declaring war — they had
evidently come on a reconnoitring expedition.
As soon as the interpreter had moved up to
him Satank spoke a few words to Mexican Joe,
who asked in broken English :
"Where your pardners? Other mans? Where
wagon ? "
"Gone down to To hausen's camp," I said.
"He say, 'Maybe so you lie,' " said Joe, making
247

THE WOLF HUNTERS
the sign of the forked tongue; then continued,
"Any mans in casa — house?" nodding toward the
dugout. "Yes," I replied.
Apparently wishing to see the inside of our
house — or to get the drop on me in some way —
after a few more words between them, Joe said:
"He say: 'White man come to Kiowa's camp
Kiowa feed him. Satank he hungry. Want to
go in casa, eat with white man — be good amigos.'"
I replied:
"Food all gone. Pardners gone with wagon to
bring some buffalo meat. Tell him to come again
when pardners get back. I'll give him plenty to
eat." Of course, Satank did not believe this, and I did
not care. I wished to stand him off, for I was de
termined that he should get no closer inspection
of our situation than he already had. I felt sure
that he had a party of his warriors close about —
probably in hiding in the timber — and that he
had come on a spying tour.
Satank evidently recognized me as one of the
actors in an episode that took place at Fort Wise
when I was in the service, and asked a number of
questions about it. To all these I replied by deny
ing any knowledge of the event. The interpreter
said, however:
"He say: 'You can't fool him. He know you.'"
I was in dread all the time that they might lift
248

SATANK ARRIVES
their eyes to the upland prairie in the direction of
Fort Larned, where our white-covered wagon was
still in plain view; but a little swell of the prairie
hid it from them.
After exchanging a few more words in their own
language, Joe turned to me and said :
"Adios, good-by, seiior. We go — vamose."
Backing away a few steps, they turned off
around the butt of our haystack, and made for the
crossing of the ravine just above our dugouts.
Here they examined the ground closely, evidently
looking for fresh tracks of our wagon and mules to
see which way they had gone.
As soon as they crossed the ravine I returned to
my station on the dirt roof of our dugout where
I could watch their movements. When they
reached the higher ground and our Fort Larned
trail the fresh tracks of the team gave them their
clew. Pointing to the fresh signs, Satank's eyes
followed the course of the trail until he caught
sight of the wagon in the distance, just as it
seemed to reach the crest of the high prairie about
three miles away. With an excited exclamation he
pointed out his discovery to his companion, and
then mounting rode off at a lively gait.
I conjectured that Satank would either pursue
the wagon or bring his men to attack my position
— probably both. In either case it was of the
utmost importance that I warn my comrades,
which now seemed an impossibility; and while
249

THE WOLF HUNTERS
fretting at my helplessness I looked down at
Found, at my feet, and the inspiration came.
"Good!" I shouted, "I'll send the dog!"
Rushing down into the cabin I seized a piece of
paper and hastily wrote on it:

Look out for Satank and his gang ! They are after
you ! I am 0. K., so far. Peck.

Quickly tying this slip to Found's collar and
taking down an old cap of Tom's from which to
give the dog the scent, I hurried back on top of
the dugout. I spoke to the dog and then pointed
to the covered wagon, still plainly visible, and for
fear he did not see it I lifted him up in my arms,
pointed again to the far-off wagon, repeating the
names, "Tom — Jack!"
The intelligent creature looked up into my
face, as I set him down, and then at the wagon,
barked and wagged his tail vigorously as though
he thought he understood me. I then pointed
again to the wagon, held Tom's old cap to his
nose, and said, "Go to Tom," motioning with my
hand toward the wagon.
Found looked carefully all around, as though to
see if there were any Indians about, and then in
stead of following the wagon tracks, as I supposed
he would, he started down into the bottom of the
ravine, the head of which led toward the wagon;
250

" Go to Tom.'

SATANK ARRIVES
and after going a few rods, stopped and looked in
quiringly back at me, as if to ask: "Am I right?"
"Yes, yes," I answered impatiently as I mo
tioned him away, "go to Tom! go to Tom!"
The dog seemed now fully to comprehend my
wishes, and lit out up the ravine on a lively run,
now and then disappearing from my view for a
moment in the sinuosities of the gulch.
I turned to go down into the cabin to get the
field-glass, the better to watch the progress of the
dog, and in doing so I instinctively cast my glance
in the direction of the point of timber where Satank
and Joe had entered a few moments before, and
there saw a party of mounted Indians hurrying out
of the woods and starting across the prairie after
the team.
The Kiowas were about as near the wagon as
Found, and it seemed that it would be a close race
between the dog and Indians as to which would
reach the team first. With the field-glass I
watched the advance of Indians and dog with ex
cited anxiety. The pursuers and my messenger
had entered broken ground between the creek val
ley and the upland, and I could catch only occa
sional glimpses of them. To get a better view I
climbed up on the derrick, where we usually hung
our fresh meat, which gave me a few feet more of
elevation. I tried to count the Indians as they
started in pursuit of the wagon and made out that
they numbered about forty. 251

THE WOLF HUNTERS
I had watched first Found and then the Kiowas
through the glass until the dog had proceeded so
far that he had passed out of sight on the upland,
still running; and the Indians could only be seen
at intervals; but I could not tell which was nearer
the wagon. The Indians were approaching it
from the right and rear, while Found would be
coming from nearly behind. Tom and Jack, I
knew, would be sitting on the seat in the wagon,
under cover of the sheet, unsuspicious of danger;
the rattling of the wagon would drown any noise
of the galloping Indians; and their first intima
tion of the presence of the Kiowas — unless Found
reached them in time — would be a volley of
bullets and arrows as the redskins surrounded
them. I focussed my glass steadily on the white wagon
cover, knowing that the halting or turning of the
team would indicate that my messenger or the
pursuers had reached them. If Found got there
first the team would stop; Tom and Jack would
discover the Indians and then quickly jump out,
unhook the mules and tie them to the wheels of
the wagon; and then I would hear the reports of
their rifles first. If the Indians got there first and
surprised my comrades I would probably hear
the reports of the Kiowas' rifles before the wagon
stopped, and the frightened mules would then
start on a run.
Riveting my gaze on the wagon, I was presently
252

SATANK ARRIVES
gratified to notice it halt, and a moment later the
two familiar reports of Sharp's carbines assured
me that they, Tom and Jack, had got my warning
and had fired the first shots.
"Good!" I shouted when I heard their rifles.
"Ten to one an Indian saddle or two was emptied
by those shots!"
Then a straggling rattle of firearms, with how
and then the report of a Sharp's, indicated that
the fight was on. The bobbing up and down of
the heads of galloping Indians passing between me
and the wagon showed that the redskins were
circling around the team; and as they passed to
right and left of the wagon they seemed to be
keeping a respectful distance.
The firing slackened. Just then some mounted
men and animals came running in my direction,
and as they came near enough to be distinguish
able through the glass I made out that the two
team mules had gotten away from Tom and Jack,
after being unhitched from the wagon, and were
now making for camp, chased by a number of
Kiowas. The Indians soon caught the mules and
led them back.
The firing had now nearly ceased. Of the
wagon I could only see the white cover. The In
dians seemed to have formed a circle around my
comrades and were probably waiting for night to
enable them to crawl up near enough to make their
rifles effective. This they could do in the dark-
253

THE WOLF HUNTERS
ness, and by digging rifle-pits at close range around
the wagon they would have Tom and Jack under
a circle of rifle fire by daylight.

254

CHAPTER XXIII
SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
AS the shades of evening crept over the plain it
¦* *¦ became impossible for me to see anything dis
tinctly. The occasional reports of their carbines
assured me that my companions were still standing
off the savages.
I kept asking myself: "What can I do to help
them?" But there was no reply.
I had no inclination to eat or sleep but prepared
for a long, dismal night of watchfulness. After
attending to the horses in the stable I went into
our dugout and carried out some blankets and a
buffalo robe, and, making a snug bed in the re
mains of our haystack, where I could command a
pretty good view of our camp and surroundings, I
settled down for a long night of torturing anxiety.
I had scarcely got settled when a slight noise
from up the ravine attracted my attention, and,
quickly jumping to the conclusion that some of
the Indians were already looking for me, I strained
eyes and ears to locate the one who had made the
noise. I soon discerned a dark object coming down the
hollow, but, instead of the catlike tread of an ap-
255

THE WOLF HUNTERS
proaching Indian, with rushing gallop and joyous
bark Found came bounding up to me. In the
semidarkness I saw something whitish about his
neck, which I knew must be a message from Tom
and Jack.
Rushing into the dugout, I lit a candle, and, un
tying from Found's collar a piece of paper, I read
Tom's hastily scrawled note:
Peck: The Injuns have got us corralled and got the
mules. Both of us wounded but not bad. Laying under
the wagon with the bales of wolf skins around us. Send
us a few carbine cartridges by Found, and put Bill's neck
lace on him, so we can send him on for Bill. Look out
for yourself. Tom.
"No time to be lost," I said to myself; and, sit
ting down, I quickly wrote on the reverse side of
Tom's note:
Bill: Come quick with soldiers. Tom and Jack are
about three miles out on Larned trail. Read other side.
I am 0. K. at camp, so far. Peck.
I fed the good dog, and, tying up four packs of
Sharp's rifle cartridges — ten in a pack — in an old
handkerchief, I made ready to send Found off. I
first intended to tie the package around his neck
but decided that he could more easily carry it by
the mouth.
I tied my note to his collar, gave him a secure
hold of the handkerchief of cartridges in his teeth,
256

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
and taking down Bill's bead necklace from the
wall I held it to his nose a moment to give him
the scent, repeating as I did so, "Go to Bill! Go
to Bill!" according to his master's instructions.
Found wagged his tail and looked at me as
though he understood my wishes. I felt sure he
would first go to Tom and Jack, who would take
the cartridges, read my note to Bill, take off the
necklace and give him a fresh scent, and send
him on to the fort.
The tired dog had before him a long and dan
gerous run of about twenty miles, during which he
would have to pass twice through the cordon of
watchful Indians surrounding my comrades; but
it was the only hope of saving the men, and Found
seemed able and willing for the undertaking.
I felt confident that if the Kiowas did not kill or
cripple him, Found would make the trip quickly.
He had already evaded the Indians in returning to
camp, and I felt strong hopes that his almost
human intelligence would carry him through.
Found's first move on going out of the dugout
was to go up on the roof and stand there for a
little while sniffing the air. Then he turned and
trotted to the ravine, up which he went at a run.
My nest in the hay was a good enough point
for observation but not for defence, but I went
back there to think things over.
The waning moon would rise about midnight.
If the Indians waited till then before attacking I
257

THE WOLF HUNTERS
should command a somewhat clearer view of my
surroundings. I thought that the dog should reach the wagon
in an hour after leaving me and felt sure that it
would not be long after that before he set out on
his longer run to the fort. This should take two
or three hours, and I could only guess the time
that would be occupied in awakening Bill and his
dressing and rousing Saunders and then getting
out Saunders' company. It seemed to me the
troops ought to be on the way by midnight at
the latest, and they ought to reach my companions
in two hours from that time.
I had heard no shots from the direction of the
wagon since dark, but a long time after the dog
had left me, and while I was watching for the ris
ing moon, I heard a shot or two, apparently from
the rifles of the Indians, with no reply from the
guns of my comrades. I supposed — rightly, as I
afterward learned — that Found had reached the
wagon and that the two men, by lighting matches
to read my note, had drawn the fire from the In
dians. On the other hand, it seemed to me pos
sible that the Indians might have seen the dog and
killed him.
At length a little light appeared in the east.
The moon was about to rise, and it must be after
midnight. When the moon looked over the tops
of the timber and the light grew, I began to scru
tinize objects in my vicinity and thought that a
258

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
little way down the ravine I saw something like a
wolf. It seemed to change its position a little sev
eral times, but remained too long in one place to
be a wolf.
I was considering going into the dugout to get
the field-glasses but had not yet moved when
suddenly a streak of fire, rocket-like, shot up from
the object I had been looking at, described a
graceful curve, and struck in the hay a few feet
from me. It was a fire-arrow shot by an Indian,
to set fire to the haystack. The Indian could not
have known that I was lying in the hay but
thought that by firing it he would draw me out of
the dugout and in the light of the fire would get
a good shot at me.
I knew it would be folly to try to extinguish the
blaze that at once sprang up. I jumped up, gath-
ing blankets and buffalo robes in my arms, to run
across to the dugout, and as I rose and showed up
against the blaze I heard the crack of a rifle, and
felt the shock of a bullet in the bundle in my arms.
I was not hurt and dashed for the cabin door, and
as I entered on a run I heard the report of another
rifle from up the ravine and the spat of the bullet
on the door-frame. The hay was now burning
briskly, but I felt no anxiety for our horses in the
stable almost under the fire, for the thick dirt roof
protected them.
I closed and barred the door and then scrambled
through the tunnel up into the tent and looked out
259

THE WOLF HUNTERS
through a port-hole which gave a good view for
fifty yards up and down the valley. '
I caught a glimpse of the Indian who had fired
the hay as he looked out from behind a projecting
bank, but could not see enough of him to justify
shooting in the uncertain light. Of the Indian
who had come near hitting me as I entered the
cabin, I could see nothing. As I turned to look
again at the first Indian I saw him stealthily move
out from his concealment, crouching down, appar
ently peering at the cabin door. Pushing the muz
zle of my carbine through the port-hole in front of
me, I took as careful aim at him as I could and
fired. I saw that I had hit him, for he dropped
his rifle, fell, and rolled into the water but quickly
scrambled back to his hiding-place and did not
again show himself; but the flash of my rifle had
been seen by my watchful neighbor up the ravine,
who an instant later sent a bullet through the top
of the tent over my head.
Presently the hay burned out and only the faint
light of the moon showed the indistinct objects to
me. Still I could see well enough up and down the
ravine so that neither Indian could approach the
door of the dugout without being seen. I had been
standing on a bale of skins, which enabled me to
look out of the port-hole, but now got down and cut
another port-hole near the bottom of the tent, so
that while lying protected by the bales I could
watch for the flash of my neighbor's gun when
260

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
next he fired. I could not see that the other In
dian had attempted to recover his rifle and was
disposed to think that my first shot had perhaps
made him no longer dangerous.
While still lying among the bales of fur, looking
out of the new port-hole I had cut, my neighbor
up the gulch sent another bullet through the tent,
above me, that would have hit me if I had remained
in my former position.
I fired at the flash of his gun, but could not tell
whether I had done him any harm. At all events,
he seemed discouraged, for no more shots came
from either Indian.
The hole I had cut near the bottom of the tent
was on the east side, facing the stable door. The
two doors of the tent were on the north and south
sides. These I, untied and propped a little open
so that I could look out either way occasionally;
I saw no further signs of activity of the enemy, and
toward morning, as the air grew cold, I cut the
thongs that bound a bale of buffalo robes and
made a fairly comfortable bed, whence I could keep
a sharp lookout.
It was a long, dreary, wretched night of anxiety.
The soldiers did not come, and without them I could
see no hope of escape for my comrades or myself.
As everything seemed so quiet in my vicinity I
slipped down into the dugout, through the tunnel,
and brought up some more cartridges and some
food and cold coffee. 261

THE WOLF HUNTERS
On looking out of my port-hole again I noticed
with a hopeless feeling that daylight was fast com
ing and as yet no sign or sound of the hoped-for
rescuers. Suddenly I detected the sound of tramping
horses' feet, and springing to my feet to get a bet
ter view out of the tent door, I looked in the direc
tion from which the sounds came and could see
indistinctly a party of mounted men, on the trot,
skirting along the foot of the bluffs just southeast
of camp, as though intending to pass it from the
direction of To hausen's village.
" Could they be a reinforcement of Kiowas going
to join Satank's party?" I asked myself. "No,
they were keeping too well closed up for Indians.
It must be Captain Saunders' company, and they
have somehow missed the trail that would have
taken them to the besieged wagon. But why don't
they come here, instead of going by on the trot?"
While putting these puzzling questions to my
self I was standing with the folds of the tent door
slightly parted, peeping out stealthily, lest the
bullet of my lurking foe might find me. When the
party of mounted men were nearly opposite our
tent I noticed one from the head of the column
branch off and strike a gallop in my direction, and
a moment later the welcome voice of Wild Bill
called out:
'Halloo, Peck, are you still a-kicking?"
Answering him with an affirmative shout, I
262

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
stepped out, forgetting for the moment the Indian
who was watching for a shot at me. He failed to
take advantage of the opportunity, for he saw
that he was trapped and made a dash up out of
the ravine and ran for the nearest point of bushes
just back of our burned haystack.
I called to Bill, who was on the same side of the
ravine as the fleeing Kiowa:
"Head him off, Bill! Kill him! Kill him!"
The scout instantly turned his horse and dashed
after the Indian, who, seeing that he could not
reach the brush before being overtaken, halted,
turned, took deliberate aim at the oncoming horse
man, and fired.
Down went horse and rider in a heap. The
Kiowa dropped his rifle, drew his knife, and
started forward to finish his fallen foe. As Bill
was now between me and the Indian I was afraid
to fire for fear of hitting my friend, who, I saw, was
struggling to free himself from his dead horse. I
ran across the ravine to where I thought I could
help Bill, and before I reached the top of the bank
on the other side I heard a shot and then Bill's
war-whoop. When I got in sight of them again Bill was still
lying down, one foot under his dead horse, and
the Kiowa was lying a few feet from him.
I rushed to him and helped to free him from his
horse. On getting on his feet he assured me that
he was not hurt, and then, looking toward the
263

THE WOLF HUNTERS
Kiowa and noticing that his enemy was not yet
dead, with an exultant war-whoop Bill whipped
out his knife, sprang to his dying foe, anxious to
scalp him.
I had been so absorbed in this affair that I
had not noticed that Captain Saunders with his
troopers had turned out of his course and now
came galloping up to us; seeing which Bill called
out impatiently to the captain, waving him back:
"Don't stop here, Cap! There's only one In
jun here, and I've fixed him! We're losing time,
and we've lost too much already. I'm afraid
them Kiowas out yonder'll get away from us yet.
Shove your men along out that way lively."
And then suddenly stopping to listen to a rattle
of firearms out toward the wagon, he exclaimed :
"There, do you hear that? Your lieutenant's
opening the ball out there right now and them
Kiowas'll be coming a-tearing this way in a few
minutes. String your men out so's to catch them.
I'll overtake you."
"But what will you do for a horse?" asked
Saunders as he gave command for moving:
"I'll borrow Peck's black horse."
Saunders immediately put his men on the gallop
toward the wagon on the prairie.
Taking Bill's hint of a remount, I rushed to the
stable and got Prince out, while he was getting
his saddle and bridle off his dead horse; and while
hurriedly saddling the black horse Bill was giving
264

SURROUNDED BY KIOWAS
me a brief account of how they came to be here
at our camp instead of at the wagon.
"Found come through to Fort Larned on time,
all right," he said, "and wanted to come back
with me, but I locked him in my room. It took an
everlasting time for Saunders to get his company
ready to move. Well, after we started, I con
cluded that the Kiowas would hear us a-coming
and get away, unless we could get around in their
rear. So I got the captain to divide his men,
leaving twenty, under Lieutenant Wilson, to lay
around over about Ash Creek hollow until nigh day
light, and then to move up onto the Injuns around
the wagon and start them this way, while with the
other thirty men we got around on this side of
them. We've been riding like the devil, but it
was a long ways to go to get around here, and
Lieutenant Wilson was to make the attack on his
side at daylight, anyway, and he's a-doing it all
right." By this time we had Prince saddled, and, spring
ing onto him, as he galloped after Saunders's party
Bill called back to me:
"Keep a sharp lookout, Peck, till we get back
here, for there may be some skulkers laying for
you in the timber 'round here."

265

CHAPTER XXIV
CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
/^"LANCING around as Bill galloped away, I
^-* plainly saw, in the bushes at the edge of the
timber back of our burnt haystack, two Indian
ponies tied to some bushes, with saddles and
bridles on. They were the mounts of the two
Kiowas who had entertained me throughout the
night and one of whom Bill had just killed.
The other fellow, who set fire to the haystack,
I supposed had made good his escape.
And, as I thought this, I naturally turned to
look at the spot from where he had fired the burn
ing arrow.
"I'm sure I hit him when I shot at him out of
the tent," I said to myself. "I wonder if I hurt
him much? I'll just step down there and see if
there is any blood on the ground."
As I approached the spot I saw something like
the end of a dirty blanket showing from behind the
jutting bank where he had been concealed, and,
fearing that the Indian, wounded, might be lying
there waiting to shoot me, I cocked my rifle and
crept cautiously around to where I could see be
hind the projecting bank; and there lay the Indian,
266

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
sure enough, but without sign of life. On a nearer
approach I found he was dead and cold — probably
having bled to death soon after I had shot him.
On turning the body over to get a good look at
his face, I was somewhat astonished to recognize
the features of old Broken Nose, the medicine-man
from To hausen's camp.
Leaving the body where it was, I hurried back
to the tent to climb up on the derrick with the
field-glass, anxious to see what I could of the fight
between the Kiowas and soldiers out on the prai
rie. There was not much to see.
Saunders' party had been delayed too long in
making the detour to get in the rear of the enemy.
Lieutenant Wilson had made his attack at day
light, according to orders, and the Indians, aban
doning their siege of the wagon, were retreating
to the nearest point of the Walnut Creek timber.
From my stand I could see Saunders' party try
ing to cut off the fleeing Indians from the timber,
but they seemed to succeed in intercepting only a
few of the hindmost ones. Saunders, Wild Bill,
and party went on in pursuit of the fleeing Kiowas
until they passed out of sight behind a point of
timber. Turning my glass toward the wagon, I could
see a party of soldiers gathered around it. Soon
the wagon started moving toward our camp, ac
companied by the mounted men. The soldiers
must have recaptured the mules and harness.
267

THE WOLF HUNTERS
As the wagon party came down the grade from
the upland at a brisk trot, it occurred to me that
they would all be as hungry as coyotes, and, rush
ing down into the dugout, I began doing what I
could to prepare something for them to eat.
Lieutenant Wilson came galloping on ahead to
tell me the results of the fight at his end of the line,
not knowing that I had witnessed nearly all of it
through the glass. Jack and Tom, he said, were
both wounded, but not seriously. They had killed
three Kiowas and two ponies before the soldiers
arrived, and the latter had killed five more Indians
and captured several ponies in the attack at day
light. I told the lieutenant what arrangement I
had planned for feeding his men — which he said
would be satisfactory — and also that we had grain
enough to give his horses a feed but no hay.
As the wagon came up I rushed to it to con
gratulate my comrades on their escape and to as
certain the extent of their injuries.
"Only a few scratches," said Jack indifferently,
in spite of his pale looks, as he climbed out of the
wagon with his left arm in a sling. "I got an
arrow through me arm, but Tom is worse hurted
— a bullet through his thigh but no bones broke.
Have you anything to eat?"
I helped Tom out and supported him on one side
as he hobbled down to the dugout. Meantime,
the lieutenant and his troopers were taking care
268

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
of their horses, after which some of them unhar
nessed the mules for us while others started a fire
and began to cook their breakfast.
As I entered the dugout with Tom, I no
ticed my blankets lying on the floor, where I had
dropped them on my hurried entry the night
before, and after helping the old man to a seat I
gathered up the bedding to make him a pallet.
In doing this the bullet that old Broken Nose had
fired into the bundle dropped to the floor.
"There, Tom," I said as I picked it up and
handed it to him, "is a last token from your old
friend, Broken Nose."
"What? Has the old rascal been here? Why
didn't you kill him ? " he asked eagerly.
"I did. He's lying down the ravine yonder, a
little way. He and another had me corralled here
all night, but I got Broken Nose and Wild Bill
got the other."
While I cooked breakfast I told them all about
my little affair of the past night.
"While the coffee's a-boiling, lieutenant," said
Jack after I had finished, "come on and we'll go
and take a look at the dead Injuns. I want to
make sure that they're good and dead."
As they started out I called to them:
"While you're at it, go over to the brush yon
der, behind the burnt haystack, and bring in the
two Indians' ponies. I haven't had time to gather
them in yet." 269

THE WOLF HUNTERS
In a little while they returned, bringing the
horses and tying them to the wagon.
"You and Bill sure did a good job on them
two," said Jack as he and Wilson re-entered the
cabin. "I'm only sorry I didn't have the pleasure
of doing the business for old Broken Nose myself,
for I was owing him that."
We had just finished eating our breakfast when
one of the soldiers called out:
"Here comes Wild Bill riding like the devil was
after him! Wonder what's up?"
Looking in the direction that Saunders's party
had gone, we saw the scout coming back alone,
riding rapidly.
When he reached us he said that Captain Saun
ders and' two of his men were wounded, one horse
killed and several wounded. One soldier was
thought to be fatally hurt; and Bill had come for
our team and wagon to haul them to our camp, as
the two soldiers were unable to sit on their horses.
We were soon busy hitching up the mules while
Bill gave us the particulars of their fight. It ap
peared that in chasing the fleeing Kiowas, Bill,
accompanied by several soldiers, had become sep
arated from Saunders and the main party, and the
scout, not being at hand to guide the captain, the
latter in his eager pursuit of the enemy had made
the mistake of closely following the Indians into
the timber, which blunder they had anticipated
and had ambushed the soldiers.
270

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
"I thought Cap. knew better than that," said
Bill, "but it was partly my fault. I knew he'd
never fought Injuns before, and I ought to have
stayed with him and stopped him short of the
brush." In spite of his crippled condition, old Tom came
hobbling out of the dugout, with his little medi
cine-chest and a bundle of rags under his arm for
bandages, and insisted on going with the team to
do what he could for the wounded.
Jack's wounded arm prevented him from han
dling the team, so we left him in camp and I went
along to drive the mules. Lieutenant Wilson had
received orders to remain at our camp with his
detachment until further orders.
After being helped into the wagon, Tom's fore
sight prompted him to call to me:
"Peck, throw in some bedding and get some
grub — sugar, coffee, hardtack, and meat — to take
along, and a camp kettle and frying-pan and a
few tin cups."
I remembered the bale of buffalo robes I had cut
open in the tent the night before for my own com
fort and, calling one of the soldiers to help me,
brought them out and tumbled them into the
wagon, with the desired rations and utensils. I
then took the lines and whip and started at a trot,
guided by Wild Bill riding alongside.
As we trotted along I asked the scout:
"How many Kiowas did you and Saunders'
party kill?" 271

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"The returns are not all in yet," replied Bill,
"but I think we got seven or eight. I got three
of them for my share. That was all I could catch
before they got into the timber; and, of course,
when they got to the brush I had to give up the
chase and let them go."
"It's most too good a thing to hope that old
Satank'll be found among the killed," said Tom.
"No, I'm afraid we'll not find him among them,"
replied Bill regretfully, "for I reckon his luck has
saved him again, unless he may be among them
that were killed out near the wagon. If I can get
time I'll ride around over the prairie and take a
good look at all of them, and the old rascal may be
found among them; but I'll be surprised if he is,
for he has wonderful luck in getting out of tight
places." "Don't you think, Bill," I asked, "that this was
rather a badly managed expedition of old Satank's,
considering that he has the reputation of being
such a successful raider?"
"Yes, he's made a bad mess of it this time, sure,
and a few more such failures'll cause his followers
to choose another leader. I think he's losing his
grip on the war-path, and we'll soon see Satanta
or Big Tree coming to the front as leader of the
hostile Kiowas. When what's left of these fellows
get back to their big village and count noses,
there'll be such a howl against old Satank that I
don't believe he'll ever be able to get much of a
272

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
following again. You mark what I tell you, Sa
tanta or Big Tree is going to be the war chief of the
Kiowas hereafter."
We found Captain Saunders and his men about
two miles above our camp, dismounted in the edge
of the timber near the old Indian camp, anxiously
awaiting our arrival. Saunders himself had his
head roughly bandaged with an' old handkerchief
because of a glancing arrow wound above his right
ear, which had bled profusely over his face and
clothes but was not serious. His horse had re
ceived a bullet in the shoulder which lamed him
badly. ¦ Supposing from Saunders' appearance that he
was badly hurt, Tom was going to him to dress his
wounds when the captain said :
"Never mind me, Mr. Vance; I'm not hurt
much; but if you can help poor Dolan there, lying
behind that tree, do what you can for him. He is
badly hurt — spitting blood and growing weaker — "
talking as he led the way to where the wounded
man lay. "An arrow went through his breast
and lodged in the neck of a horse a couple of rods
behind him. I had no idea they could shoot those
arrows so viciously."
On examining Dolan's wound, Tom's experience
told him that the man was past any help that he
could render, for the arrow had gone through the
lung, and an inward hemorrhage seemed to be
slowly sapping his life. Dressing the wound and
273

THE WOLF HUNTERS
giving the man a stimulant, Tom and the captain
consulted together for a moment and then in
formed the patient that, though his case was quite
serious, it was not altogether hopeless and that
his only chance was to be hurried back to Fort
Larned, where the post surgeon could give him
proper attention.
The other man who had been reported wounded
had a broken arm. Tom splinted and bandaged
it, and the two were soon made comparatively
comfortable among the buffalo robes in the wagon.
Several others had received slight wounds but
were "able for duty."
While this had been going on, Saunders' men
had gotten out the grub and utensils, fried some
meat and made some coffee and now called us up
to eat. This was the first intimation to Saunders
that there was such a luxury as food in the outfit,
and as he sniffed the pleasant aroma of the boiling
coffee he turned to Tom and me and thanked us
for our thoughtfulness.
"Captain," said Tom after we had eaten, "it's
time that team was on the way to Fort Larned.
What are your plans for getting these men there?
If I can help you in any way, I'm at your ser
vice." "Thanks," replied Saunders. "My plan is to
send a half dozen men along with the wagon as an
escort and some responsible man in charge. I
will then move down to your camp and, taking
274

CAPTAIN SAUNDERS' FIGHT
Wilson and party from there, move on down to
To hausen's village and try to find out whether
his people have been harboring these hostiles; and
then to-morrow we'll all move into the fort. I
will send a requisition in by the team to bring out
some grain for the horses to-morrow and any other
supplies that we may need. It will be best that
we stay and see you all safely into Fort Larned."
Then turning to Wild Bill, he asked: "Do you
think, Bill, that six men will be a sufficient escort
to go with the wagon and wounded men — do you
think there is any danger of their meeting hostile
Kiowas?" "None but dead ones," replied Bill. "The team
can go through all right now."
"Well," said Saunders, "I had thought of ask
ing Mr. Vance or Mr. Peck to take charge of the
wounded men and see them through,"
"Tom'll be the man for that," suggested Bill,
"for the wounded men may need some help on
the way."
"Well, that's settled," said Tom impatiently, as
he started for the wagon without waiting for the
captain's decision. "Captain, please detail the
escort and start them on after me; they can soon
overtake us." And, climbing into the wagon, he
took up the whip and lines and started.
The captain quickly mounted the escort and
hurried them after the wagon; and then he him
self mounted the horse of one of the wounded
275

THE WOLF HUNTERS
men and we set out for our camp, I riding one of
the Kiowa ponies captured in the fight.
The horses were a rather scrawny-looking lot,
as the Indian ponies generally are at this season
of the year — the result of starvation through the
winter — but, no doubt, there was in them good
mettle that would show itself as soon as the grass
came; for the Indian warrior always selects his
fleetest and toughest horse to ride when going on
the war-path.
Arrived at the camp, Captain Saunders had his
men unsaddle and water their horses and picket
them out for an hour's rest before starting down to
To hausen's village.
Some of Lieutenant Wilson's men had killed
several antelope and had cooked up a great lot of
the meat, anticipating that Saunders' men would
come in hungry, as they did. Saunders, Wilson,
Bill, and I adjourned to the dugout to eat the
meal Jack had prepared for us.
While we were eating I told Captain Saunders
something of my experience of the previous night
and exhibited the bullet that old Broken Nose
had fired into the bundle of blankets in my arms.

276

CHAPTER XXV
WE PART FROM FRIENDS
rTAHE captain's party returned from To haus-
-*- en's village about sunset. He said that he
had had an amicable and satisfactory talk with
the old chief and his followers, all of whom reit
erated their former professions of friendship for
the whites and declared that they would have
no intercourse with the hostiles.
"We've got to take that," said Wild Bill, who
had been interpreter at the talk, "with a grain of
salt, for while I was there I found out, by pumping
some of their youngsters and women, that they
were pretty well posted about the whole affair up
to the time that Lieutenant Wilson put in an ap
pearance and stampeded them this morning, which
goes to show that a few of To hausen's bucks
were with Satank up to that time; and in the
stampede these fellows must have skedaddled back
to To hausen's camp and told about the fight
as far as they had been in it. But they didn't
seem to know about our part of the fight up the
creek nor about old Broken Nose and this other
Indian getting their medicine here. I told them
about that part of it. And, to make it appear like
277

THE WOLF HUNTERS
old Nosey had gotten just what was coming to
him, I told them that the man who got away with
him was the same one that old Nosey had tried to
burn up when he set fire to the grass out in the
bottom that day."
"Good for you, Bill!" exclaimed Jack. "I don't
want to rob Peck of the credit, but it's better to
let his people think that I evened up with the old
rascal at last."
After supper, as night settled down, the cold
wind reminded us of another difficulty that few
of us had yet thought of. What were we to do for
bedding for the soldiers who had come away from
the garrison in a hurry without any thought of
being out overnight?
About tattoo the rattling of a wagon was heard
out on the trail toward Fort Larned. It seemed
impossible that Tom could be coming back from
the fort so soon with our mule team, but a wagon
was approaching from that direction.
We were all out upon the bank looking and
listening and speculating as to who the coming
parties could be when we heard the sentry on
that side of the grounds challenge: "Halt! Who
comes there?" And then, apparently assuming
the right to pass upon the credentials of the new
comers without the regulation formality of calling
for the sergeant of the guard, the sentry admitted
two mounted men, who came cantering up to the
camp-fire. 278

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
The arrivals were two troopers who reported
that a little way behind them two six-mule teams
were coming, escorted by a dozen cavalrymen
under charge of a sergeant. They had been sent
out by the commanding officer, at Tom's sugges
tion, as quickly as they could be hitched up after
our team with the wounded men had arrived at
the fort.
In a few minutes the teams and escort came up,
admitted by the sentry. We soon learned the re
sults of Tom's trip. The badly wounded soldier,
Dolan, had died shortly after Tom's arrival at the
post. On reaching the fort Tom drove immedi
ately to the adjutant's office and reported to the
commanding officer the result of the fight and the
condition of the wounded, and then hurried on to
the hospital, followed by the major and several
other officers and soldiers, all eager to learn all the
particulars. By this time Tom's wounded leg had made him
so lame that he realized the impossibility of his
returning to our camp with the supplies; and our
mule team, also, was not in condition to return
immediately, so he suggested to the major that a
couple of six-mule teams be quickly hitched up
and started under escort for the camp with ra
tions and feed for Saunders' men and horses; and
he very thoughtfully, also, advised sending the
blankets of Saunders' troopers, all of which was
promptly ordered. 279

THE WOLF HUNTERS
One team would have been ample to have taken
the supplies to Saunders, but Tom calculated that
by sending two the second team, in the absence
of our own, could be used, in returning next day,
to move our plunder into the post.
Captain Saunders could not say enough in praise
of the old man's forethought and unselfishness.
"He is certainly a valuable man among soldiers,"
he said, "for he always seems to know what to
do and how to do it."
"Cap," interjected Wild Bill, "you will please
bear in mind that I suggested that Tom was the
man to send on that trip."
"So you did," admitted Saunders, "and you
certainly knew your man."
I had assigned the use of our tent to Captain
Saunders' guard detail; and by stuffing a bale of
skins into the mouth of the tunnel under the tri
pod, to stop the draught, and carrying the other
bales outside, they made for themselves very com
fortable quarters.
The other men made their beds on the open
prairie, outside the tent, with their saddles for pil
lows; and most of them turned in early, to get out
of the cold night wind and from weariness, while
a few still sat around the camp-fire talking over
the events of the day.
The officers and Wild Bill prepared to sleep with
us in the cabin, and after we had spread down our
beds I spoke to Bill about the events of the morn
ing and the loss of his horse. 280

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
"Yes," said he, "there ain't but one horse in the
country that's as good as my Charlie, and maybe
a little better in some ways, and that's your Black
Prince; and I'm going to try to coax you boys to
sell me that horse because I've fell in love with
him and I need him bad in my business."
"Why, Bill," said Jack, laughing heartily at the
scout's guilelessness, "you ain't no sort of a horse
trader. When you want to buy a man's horse
you should run him down and make him out no
account instead of bragging on him."
" If I was dealing with horse-jockeys I might do
that way," returned Bill, "but when I'm a-dealing
with honest men who I know won't take any ad
vantage of me I like to deal on the square with
them; and I tell you, honest Injun, that Black
Prince is about the best horse I ever threw a leg
over. I've heard that you boys have refused an
offer of two hundred and fifty dollars from some
of the officers at the fort. Now, I'll tell you what
I'll do, I'll give you three hundred for him; and
if that ain't enough I'll give you more. I ain't
got the money with me, but when we get over to
the fort I can get it from Weisselbaum. Now,
what do you say to that?"
It was amusing to listen to the unsophisticated
proposition of this free-hearted, unselfish fellow.
He did not take into consideration that he had
just rendered each of us a service of far greater
value than several such horses. He did not con-
281

THE WOLF HUNTERS
sider that we were in any way indebted to him on
account of his horse being killed in our service.
No; that was merely one of the misfortunes of war.
But Tom, Jack, and I, although we had not said
a word to each other about it, had each mentally
decided that we ought to present the black horse
to Wild Bill to make good his loss and to show
our appreciation of his manly response and price
less service in our hour of need.
In reply to his question, "What do you say?"
and an expressive look from Jack, I said:
"Not having consulted my partners about the
matter, Bill, of course I can't speak for them, but
I think it's a safe guess that you'll get the horse;
and there is plenty of time in the future to settle
on the price."
"Well, now, that's the way I like to hear you
talk," said he with a gratified smile. "When we
get over to the fort, you and Jack can talk it over
with Tom and let me know the price you agree
on, and I'll dig up the money."
The night passed quietly. As Bill had said, the
hostiles had been too badly whipped to think of
returning to attack us. After breakfast next
morning the horses were saddled and the wagons
packed; and marching out on the Fort Larned
trail, the company moved first in "column of
fours," followed by the two six-mule teams, and
then came the "cavvy-yard," driven by the men
of the guard acting as "rear-guard." Bill, Jack,
282

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
and I rode at the head of the column with the
company officers.
As we reached the crest of the grade coming
onto the upland, about two miles from our recent
camp, with the officers we turned out on the side
of the trail as the command marched by, to take
a parting look at Camp Coyotelope; and we no
ticed what appeared to be a number of Indians —
some mounted and some afoot — moving about in
the vicinity of the dugouts.
"Some of To hausen's people," suggested Bill,
"looking after the bodies of old Nosey and his
pard and gathering up the leavings about the old
camp. They'll take them two dead bucks back
to their camp and bury them."
I had dismounted and taken out our field-glass
to get a better view of the Indians and verified
the scout's surmise, for I could plainly see a group
gathered about the body of each of the two dead
Indians, apparently lifting them onto their ponies.
"There, Peck," said Bill, noticing the field-glass
I held, "is another thing I'd like to buy or trade
you out of, for I got mine broke yesterday morn
ing when my horse fell with me; and I need glasses,
and you're going back to Leavenworth where you
can easy get another pair." As he took the glass
to examine it, he asked: "How much is it
worth?" "It cost us twenty dollars in Leavenworth," I
replied. "They are handy things to have on the
283

THE WOLF HUNTERS
plains, but we won't need it much going back to
the settlements. I'll speak to Tom about it and
I guess we'll let you have it when we get ready to
start on the home-stretch from Fort Larned."
"Well, it ought to be worth more out here than
it cost you in Leavenworth and I'll pay you what
ever you think it's worth. Of course, I ain't got
the money now, for it's going to take all I can
borrow, I reckon, to pay you for this horse; but
if you'll trust me till I come in to Leavenworth,
I'll pay you then — that is I'm supposing that you
fellows will hang up in Leavenworth for a while —
anyway, till you blow in your money."
"Well, as to Tom and me," remarked Jack, "I
believe each of us has planned to take a trip East
when we get in, but I think it'll be a safe wager
that you'll find Peck about Leavenworth, for
there's a curly-headed girl there that he talks
about in his sleep."
"Well, that do settle it," said Bill with a chuckle
and a wink at Jack.
As we passed over the recent battle-field, we rode
around and looked at the bodies of all the dead
Kiowas, hoping though hardly expecting to find
Satank, but were disappointed — the murderous
old fiend had escaped again. These bodies were
all considerably torn by the wolves, but their fea
tures were still in good enough condition to have
enabled us to identify him had he been among
the fallen. An inscrutable Providence permitted
284

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
this bloodthirsty demon to roam the plains for
several years longer.
As we neared the post, several officers and sol
diers came out to meet us, anxious to hear all about
the fight. The cavvy-yard of captured ponies,
with their Indian saddles and bridles, together
with other trophies of the fight carried by Saun
ders' men, attracted much attention. Saunders'
men seemed much elated over the fact that this,
their first engagement with the Indians, had been
so successfully planned and executed.
As the captain with his company turned off to
their stable, Bill, Jack, and I, accompanied by the
six-mule team carrying our plunder, moved on
through the garrison and established our camp
about a half mile below, in a snug bend of Paw
nee Fork.
After unloading our stuff from the wagon, we
sent the team back to the garrison and then set
about pitching our tent and making ourselves com
fortable, for we expected to have to remain here
several days, partly on Tom's account and partly
to wait for Kitchen's train, which was coming in
from New Mexico, by which we expected to ship
our wolfskins to Leavenworth, provided we did
not sell them here.
After getting everything in shape, leaving Jack
to mind camp and cook dinner, Bill and I returned
to the post to call on Tom at the hospital, to re
lease Found, who was still locked in Bill's room,
and to bring our mule team back to camp.
285

THE WOLF HUNTERS
We found the old man still badly crippled from
the wound in his thigh, but the doctor thought he
would be able to travel in a few days.
The faithful dog was glad to see us and to be
released. He was quite hungry, for he had had
nothing to eat since the feed I gave him in the
dugout before starting him with the message to
Bill. As I was hitching up our mule team at Saun
ders' company stable, the captain came by and in
sisted on my going with him to the commissary
and loading in some rations and feed which he had
procured a requisition for, to replace the supplies
that his men and horses had consumed at Camp
Coyotelope. The work of settling up our business affairs and
getting everything ready for the return trip now
devolved upon me, though I had the benefit of
consultation with Tom on all matters of impor
tance. As already stated, our winter's catch of wolf
skins numbered something over three thousand.
These were all dried and baled in one of Weissel-
baum's warerooms. About one fourth of these
pelts were of the large gray wolves, or "lobos," as
the Mexicans call them, which, at that time, were
rated on the plains at one dollar and twenty-five
cents each. The other three fourths were coy
otes, worth seventy-five cents each. Besides these,
there were several bales of the skins of the little
286

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
yellow fox, worth twenty-five cents each. At
these figures, the entire lot should bring us some
thing over twenty-six hundred dollars. On Tom's
advice I offered the whole to Weisselbaum for
twenty-five hundred, but he seemed to think he
could get them for less and held off.
One day when negotiations had reached this
stage, Kitchen's mule train rolled in and camped
near us. This brought business to a focus with
Weisselbaum and he immediately hurried down
to our camp, accepted my offer, and wrote me out
a check on Clark & Gruber* (M. E. Clark & E. H.
Gruber), bankers of Leavenworth city, for twenty-
five hundred dollars. In addition to this, I drew
from his safe the three hundred and fifty dollars
that we had deposited with him.
It is a well-known fact that in the dry, pure
atmosphere of the plains, flesh wounds heal with
astonishing rapidity. It may have been, in Tom's
case, that the satisfactory closing up of our busi
ness affairs had something to do with it, but about
this time Jack and I were astonished as well as
pleased to see Tom come limping into camp and
report for duty.
Bill had sent word by Tom that he, Captain
Saunders, and Lieutenant Wilson were coming
down to take supper with us, and just after retreat
all three rode into camp accompanied by Found.
*This firm about this time minted private gold coins known as
Pike's Peak coins. 287

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"Now, boys," said Bill as he dismounted and
tied Black Prince to the wagon, "you haven't told
me yet how much you're going to tax me for this
horse, and if you'll let me know I'll go right up to
Weisselbaum's and get the greenbacks for you,
for he said he'd let me have them."
"We've talked the matter over, Bill," said Tom,
speaking for our party, "an' have concluded that,
seeing as how you lost your best horse in our
service, and in consideration of the good service
you've done us all the way along, an' old-time
friendship and so forth, that it'll be no more'n
right for us to make you a present of Black Prince,
subject only to the condition that if the rightful
owner of the horse ever turns up and claims him
you'll then have to make terms with him; but
that's a very remote possibility."
"Do you mean it, Tom? Is that so, boys?"
asked the scout in confused astonishment at such
good luck as he looked around from one to an
other of us. "Am I to have that fine horse with
out paying you a dollar?"
"That's what! That's the job we've put up on
you," we replied.
"Well, now, boys — " stammered Bill in a diffi
dent sort of way as he seemed to be trying to
study up a nice little speech of thanks.
"Aw, give us a rest!" interrupted old Tom in
his rough and good-humored effort to help Bill out
of his embarrassment. "The horse is yours, and
288

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
I don't want to hear anything more out of you
about it."
Knowing that Bill was an expert shot with rifle
or pistol, it had occurred to me, since he had ex
pressed a desire to buy our field-glass, to exact of
him a sample of his marksmanship as his signature
to a promissory note for the price of the glass; and
accordingly I had selected the ace of diamonds
from our old, much-soiled deck of cards and had
written across the face of it :

$20.
On demand, after date, I promise to pay
to R. M. Peck the sum of Twenty Dollars,
($20.), for value received. his
Wild <•> Bill.
mark.
Fort Larned, Kan.
Mar. 17, 1862.

"But, Bill," I put in after Tom had cut him off
short about the horse, "I ain't going to let you off
so cheap on that field-glass deal. You'll have to
give me your note for the twenty dollars."
"Well, I guess I can borrow that much from
Cap Saunders or Mr. Wilson, here, and pay you
the cash," he replied. 289

THE WOLF HUNTERS
"No, I don't want the money — I want your
note written on this card, signed by a bullet shot
by you through the centre of the ace at ten
paces." Saying which, I produced the card I had pre
pared and read the inscription to him.
"Now, I'll tack the card up on this tree here,"
I continued, " and you are to stand with your back
against the card, pistol in hand, step off ten paces,
'bout face, and fire a bullet through the ace. And
if you don't knock the centre out it's no go — I'll
have to write another note on another ace and
you'll have to try it again."
"Huh! that's easy," said Bill with a grin of
confidence. "You won't have to waste any more
of your cards."
I knew he could do it, even at twenty paces, for
I had seen him perform such feats before. With
the utmost indifference, he backed up to the card on
the tree, stepped off ten paces — good, long-legged
measure — made a graceful "officer's about face,"
instantly firing, without apparently taking aim, as
he came around facing the card; and we could all
see the hole in the centre of the bright-red ace.
"By George, that's good shooting!" exclaimed
Saunders in unfeigned astonishment. "Can you
do it again, Bill, or was that just an accident?"
"I'll put another ball in the same hole for you,"
replied the scout carelessly as he threw up his
pistol and fired. 290

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
Saunders' and Wilson's incredulity prompted
them to step up to the tree and examine the card
closely. "Guess you must have missed the whole tree
that time, Bill," said the captain after scrutinizing
the card and tree carefully. "The hole isn't made
any larger that I can see and I can't find any
other hole in the tree."
"Of course not. I didn't want to spoil the card;
but the second bullet is in there, right on top of the
first one, and I'll bet a horse on it. Now, stand
out of the way till I show you another trick. I'm
going to take off the right-hand point of the dia
mond this time."
And at the crack of his pistol the right point
disappeared — the last hole just cutting into the
edge of the first one.
"Now, look out for the left-hand point."
And the left point was gone — all the red being
obliterated but a little streak above and below
the first hole.
"There, Peck," he remarked regretfully as he
began reloading his pistol, "I had to pretty nigh
spoil the card to show these fellows I wasn't
a-faking." "Don't that beat the devil?" remarked Wilson,
looking from the target to Bill and from Bill to
the target in undisguised astonishment.
"Well, I've heard of such phenomenal shoot
ing," said Saunders, "but never saw the like be-
291

THE WOLF HUNTERS
fore and wouldn't have believed it possible if I
hadn't seen it. Ain't there some trick about it,
Bill?" "Not as I know of — nothing but what you've
seen. Now, if you think that second shot missed
the tree, Cap," remarked the scout as he took
down the card and passed it around for inspection,
"take that axe, there, and chop 'em all out, and
if you don't find four navy balls in there I'll eat
the chips."
Lieutenant Wilson seized the axe and soon cut
out the four battered but distinct bullets.
"I'd give a good deal if I could shoot like that.
How do you do it, Bill?" asked the captain.
"Dunno how I do it," replied the scout. "I
always could put my bullets about where I wanted
to and can't tell how I do it, either. I don't try
very hard, but just throw her up and turn loose
without taking any particular aim, and somehow
the ball goes right where I look. Of course, I
keep in good practice, and that helps some, I
suppose." "Practice won't explain it, captain," said old
Tom. "It's a gift — a natural talent that some
men find themselves possessed of. The same as
some men have the natural gift of writing a beau
tiful hand, and do it with all ease, while others,
with ever so much practice, can only acquire mod
erate skill. Now, Peck, Jack, or me, by constant
practice, can do fairly well with a pistol or rifle;
292

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
but we can't hold a candle to Bill. The best we
could probably do, on an average, at fifteen to
twenty paces, would be to put three to four bul
lets out of six in a playing-card, which would be
good shooting at a man, but Bill can put every
ball just where he wants 'em to go. I've seen
him shoot at a five-spot and put a ball in each
spot just as somebody would call them off to him,
like this, 'Centre! upper right! upper left! lower
right! lower left!' putting the balls through the
centre of each spot as accurately as you could
punch them with a nail and hammer. And he
can do nearly as well, too, mounted and on the
run. But, come, men, supper's getting cold."
After supper, although his recently wounded
arm was still somewhat sore, Jack got out his fid
dle and played several tunes, and we all joined in
singing songs.
In course of conversation I had asked Captain
Saunders what had become of my former patron,
Lieutenant Lang, not having seen him about the
garrison recently.
"Oh, Lang's out and gone — resigned by spe
cial request. Went in on the last Santa Fe
mail-coach," replied the captain. "Although you
straightened up his company papers and saved
him — or his rich daddy, rather — from having to
pay Uncle Sam a lot of money to square up his
accounts, still it was evident in many ways that
he was totally incompetent to manage a company,
293

THE WOLF HUNTERS
and he was given a hint from headquarters that
his resignation would be acceptable."
Tom, Jack, and I had previously discussed the
propriety of our making a present of some kind
to the two officers, in testimony of our apprecia
tion of their extremely prompt and timely re
sponse in the hour of our extremity, and, as we had
nothing else available or appropriate, we had de
cided to abandon the plan of each having made a
fine fur overcoat out of some of our beaver and
otter skins and to give to each officer enough of
the furs for that purpose.
At late bedtime, when the officers and Bill were
getting ready to start back to the garrison, Tom
brought out and gave to Saunders and Wilson
each a package of beaver skins, telling them of
the overcoats we had intended to make of them
and suggesting that they use them for the same
purpose. We also gave each officer a couple of
choice buffalo robes.
"Now, men," said Saunders deprecatingly,
"don't rob yourselves of these furs to reward us
for doing our simple duty. We don't expect any
thing of the kind, are not entitled to any reward,
and I don't think we ought to accept them,
and  "
"But, Saunders," interrupted Lieutenant Wil
son, "when you come to think of the princely
overcoats these beaver furs will make, it seems
to me there would be no harm in accepting them
294

WE PART FROM FRIENDS
— not as pay for doing our duty but just as tokens
of friendship and good-will from these men."
"Now you're getting it through you," said
Tom approvingly. "That's the idea — just a
friendly gift." And before Saunders could enter
another remonstrance he added, as he gathered
up an armful of the robes and skins: "Come, Jack,
bring the rest and we'll tie them on their horses
for them."
As the three men mounted we bade them a
cordial good-by and expressed a hope to soon
meet them again in Leavenworth. We each gave
Found an affectionate farewell hug, for we sin
cerely regretted parting with him.
"You'd best keep Found tied up for a few days,
Bill," suggested Jack as they started off, "lest
he should scent our trail and follow us. And
always take good care of him, for he's got more
genuine nobility in him than lots of the so-called
men I've met with."
"You bet Found'll never want for good treat
ment while I'm around," answered Bill; and then,
"Ta, ta, fellows, I'll see you in Leavenworth
before long," he called back as they rode away
into the darkness.
During this day Mr. Kitchen, the proprietor
of the neighboring train, had visited our camp
and, after inspecting our wagon, team, and camp
outfit closely, had asked if it would be for sale
when we got through to Leavenworth.
295

THE WOLF HUNTERS
I answered: "Yes."
"What will you take for it delivered to me there
in as good condition as it is now?" he asked, add
ing: "I shall be close on your heels going in."
After conferring with my partners we agreed
to deliver the outfit in good shape at Jim Brown's
livery stable, Fourth and Shawnee Streets, Leav
enworth, for five hundred dollars. Kitchen readily
agreed to take it and paid us a hundred dollars
down to clinch the bargain.

296

CHAPTER XXVI
BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
"1X7"E were a cheerful trio next morning as we
" * started out of camp on the home-stretch for
"God's country," with Jack singing: "Ain't we
glad to get out of the wilderness!"
I had brought my captured ponies along, think
ing to use them for riding stock going in and to
realize something on them after we reached Leav
enworth, and for the first day tried them — Jack
riding one and I the other — but they were in such
poor condition that by the time we had reached
Charley Rath's ranch, the first evening, I saw that
they were not going to be able to stand the travel
on grass alone — and I had been unable to teach
them to eat grain — so I left them with Charley,
with a note to Wild Bill requesting him to dispose
of them to the best advantage for me, which he
did, turning in the money to me a few weeks later
in Leavenworth.
Our bales of peltries made a bulky but not
heavy load, and our two mules and two broncos
hauled it with ease, and, though we were all anx
ious now to reach the end of our journey, still we
297

THE WOLF HUNTERS
were under contract to deliver the team to Mr.
Kitchen in Leavenworth in good condition and,
therefore, must not overdrive.
Of course each one of us was now doing some
lively planning for the future.
"Well, taking all things into consideration," re
marked Jack, the first evening after we had got
settled in camp, "though we're glad to get out of
the wilderness for a while, we've done pretty well
this winter. We've had lots of fun, some lively ad
ventures, and we've made more money than we had
any idea of when we started into the business."
"Yes," I replied, "we'll each have something
over a thousand dollars in clear cash for our win
ter's work, when we divide up, and that's more
money than I ever possessed before — how is it
with you fellows ? "
"Same here," said Jack.
"Me, too," said Tom.
"Well," I continued, "I suppose each one of
you is studying out how he can quickest blow it
in before re-enlisting?"
"I don't know about that," replied old Tom.
"I expect to re-enlist after a bit, of course, for
soldiering's the only trade I know and I haven't
really much use for the money, but I'll not
squander it foolishly. I've studied out a better
use for it. I have a widowed sister with several
children living on a little farm back in Penn
sylvania, and they only make a poor, cornbread
298

BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
living off the place by close economy. I've made
up my mind that the best use I can put this
money to is to go back there and fix them up in
good shape — and then I'm off to the war."
"Good for you, Tom," I said approvingly, "but
then I naturally expected that you would put
your money to a sensible use. How is it with
Jack?" And Tom and I turned our inquiring looks to
the Irishman.
"I know what you think," retorted he quickly.
"You think you know what'll get away with
Jack's money. In your minds you see my money
going for whiskey and me never drawing a sober
breath till I'm down to bed-rock. But I'm going
to fool you. I've been doing some thinking for
myself — and that's a rare thing for Jack, you
know — an' I says to myself, says I, 'Jacky, boy,
this is the time of your life to do some good for
your poor kindred in ould Ireland.' I haven't
heard from any of them for several years and
don't know who of them is living an' who is dead.
But I've made up my mind that when we get into
Leavenworth not a drop will I touch, and soon as
I crook me fingers on that money I'll hit the trail
for New York, take passage for the ould dart, and
if I can find any of my family living I'll bring
them back with me to this glorious land of liberty,
where one man's as good as another and a blamed
sight better if he behaves himself decently. And
299

THE WOLF HUNTERS
mind you, now, I'm not going to touch a drop of
liquor till I get back from the ould country. And
then, of course, I'll re-enlist, for soldiering's my
best hold."
Before he was done speaking each of us had ex
tended a hand to give him a hearty hand shake of
encouragement in his good resolution.
"My boy," said old Tom, with tears in his eyes,
as he took one of Jack's hands in both his, "you
don't know how glad it makes me to hear you talk
that way. If you'll only stick to it, I'd give the
half of my possessions to help you carry out that
resolution." "Same here, Jack," I added.
"Well, I'm going to show you that I can and
will do it."
After a little pause Tom inquired :
"But now about yourself, Peck. What do you
expect to do with yourself?"
"Well, I've made up my mind that I'll not re-
enlist," I replied. "I've had soldiering enough, I
think; but I suppose I'll have to enter Uncle Sam's
service in some shape or other. I noticed when
we were in Leavenworth before that the quarter
master's department at the fort is fitting out a
good many trains of new six-mule teams; and, as
that is something to my notion, I think I'll try
for a job as wagon-master."
When we reached Council Grove, then the gate
way of the border settlements, we felt as if we were
300

BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
really getting back into "God's country." As
we passed the place where we had had the con
troversy with the jayhawkers, we stopped a little
while to have a chat with the old storekeeper and
told him the disposition we had made of the black
horse. He had never heard of any owner of the
horse and did not think it probable that Wild Bill
would ever be disturbed in his possession of him.
He had heard nothing more concerning the jay
hawkers after they were gobbled up by the soldiers
and taken to the military prison at Fort Leaven
worth. When we reached Leavenworth City, we again
put up at Ned Welch's boarding-house, on Sen
eca Street, and our team at Jim Brown's stable.
A few days later, on the arrival of Mr. Kitchen's
train, we transferred our team and camp outfit to
him, as per agreement, divided up the cash pro
ceeds of our expedition, and the wolf hunters dis
banded, promising to keep track of each other in
the future by correspondence.
Then Jack and Tom started East, intending to
travel together as far as Pennsylvania.
I parted with my dear comrades with sincere
regret, fearing that in the vicissitudes of the great
war then getting under good headway, I might
never see them again.
When next I heard from Jack he had re-enlisted
and was back in the old company again. In the
war he did gallant service and received some hon-
301

THE WOLF HUNTERS
orable scars, re-enlisted again after the war and
in his last enlistment took service in the Seventh
Cavalry, and was one of the last remnant of that
doomed band who with their gallant leader met a
heroic death on that fatal knoll by the Little Big
Horn River on Sunday, June 25, 1876. With few
serious faults, and many virtues, our untutored,
wild Irishman was a brave, unselfish, and manly
man. Tom carried out his plan of using his money for
the benefit of his widowed sister and her children
on the little farm in Pennsylvania, saw them
comfortably fixed, and then went to Washington,
where, through the influence of army officers who
had known him in the service he obtained a com
mission as captain in a volunteer cavalry regiment,
soon rose to be colonel of the regiment, and at the
close of the war was a brevet brigadier- general,
commanding a brigade.
He had hoped when the war ended to obtain a
commission in the regular army, but his wounds
so far disabled him as to unfit him for active ser
vice in the regulars. He was, therefore, com
pelled to accept a pension and retired to the little
farm to try to content himself with the dull life
of citizen.
After years of perilous adventures and des
perate encounters on the frontier, Wild Bill was
finally assassinated in the city of Deadwood, South
Dakota, by a wretched gambler.
302

BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
And I? Well, of course, I married "the girl I
left behind me" in Leavenworth City, for which
piece of wisdom — or good fortune — I have always
congratulated myself. After getting married I
took service with Uncle Sam as a wagon-master,
in which capacity I served through the Civil War,
in Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, and the Indian
Nation.

3°3

BY GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL
The Wolf Hunters
A STORY OF THE BUFFALO PLAINS
Edited and arranged from the Manuscript Diary of
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My Life Among the Indians
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