e negro remained with us, and at
the first opportunity I picked up another man. Within a week we
encountered a country trail, bearing slightly northwest, over which
herds had recently passed. This trace led us into another, which
followed up the south side of the Washita River, and two weeks after
reaching the Nation we entered what afterward became famous as the
Chisholm trail. The Chickasaw was one of the civilized tribes; its
members had intermarried with the whites until their identity as
Indians was almost lost. They owned fine homes and farms in the
Washita valley, were hospitable to strangers, and where the aboriginal
blood was properly diluted the women were strikingly beautiful.
In this same valley, fifteen years afterward, I saw a herd of one
thousand and seven head of corn-fed cattle. The grain was delivered at
feed-lots at ten cents a bushel, and the beeves had then been on full
feed for nine months. There were no railroads in the country and the
only outlet for the surplus corn was to feed it to cattle and drive
them to some shipping-point in Kansas.

Compared with the route to Fort Sumner, the northern one was a
paradise. No day passed but there was an abundance of water, while the
grass simply carpeted the country. We merely soldiered along, crossing
what was then one of the No-man's lands and the Cherokee Outlet, never
sighting another herd until after entering Kansas. We amused ourselves
like urchins out for a holiday, the country was full of all kinds of
game, and our darky cook was kept busy frying venison and roasting
turkeys. A calf was born on the trail, the mother of which was quite
gentle, and we broke her for a milk cow, while "Bull," the youngster,
became a great pet. A cow-skin was slung under the wagon for carrying
wood and heavy cooking utensils, and the calf was given a berth in the
hammock until he was able to follow. But when Bull became older he
hung around the wagon like a dog, preferring the company of the outfit
to that of his own mother. He soon learned to eat cold biscuit and
corn-pone, and would hang around at meal-time, ready for the scraps.
We always had to notice where the calf lay down to sleep, as he was
a black rascal, and the men were liable to stumble over him while
changing guards during the night. He never could be prevailed on to
walk with his mother, but followed the wagon or rode in his hammock,
and was always happy as a lark when the recipient of the outfit's
attenti