hing," said he, as we were taking a drink together; "that
Pecos country was a dangerous region to pick up an honest living in.
I'm going back to God's country,--back where there ain't no Injuns."

Yet Allen died in Texas. There was a charm in the frontier that held
men captive. I always promised myself to return to Virginia to spend
the declining years of my life, but the fulfillment never came. I can
now realize how idle was the expectation, having seen others make the
attempt and fail. I recall the experience of an old cowman, laboring
under a similar delusion, who, after nearly half a century in the
Southwest, concluded to return to the scenes of his boyhood. He had
made a substantial fortune in cattle, and had fought his way through
the vicissitudes of the frontier until success crowned his efforts. A
large family had in the mean time grown up around him, and under
the pretense of giving his children the advantages of an older and
established community he sold his holdings and moved back to his
native borough. Within six months he returned to the straggling
village which he had left on the plains, bringing the family with him.
Shortly afterwards I met him, and anxiously inquired the cause of his
return. "Well, Reed," said he, "I can't make you understand near as
well as though you had tried it yourself. You see I was a stranger in
my native town. The people were all right, I reckon, but I found out
that it was me who had changed. I tried to be sociable with them, but
honest, Reed, I just couldn't stand it in a country where no one ever
asked you to take a drink."

A week was spent in crossing the country between the Concho and Brazos
rivers. Not a day passed but Indian trails were cut, all heading
southward, and on a branch of the Clear Fork we nearly ran afoul of an
encampment of forty teepees and lean-tos, with several hundred horses
in sight. But we never varied our course a fraction, passing within a
quarter mile of their camp, apparently indifferent as to whether they
showed fight or allowed us to pass in peace. Our bluff had the desired
effect; but we made it an object to reach Fort Griffin near midnight
before camping. The Comanche and his ally were great respecters, not
only of their own physical welfare, but of the Henri and Spencer rifle
with which the white man killed the buffalo at the distance of twice
the flight of an arrow. When every advantage was in his favor--ambush
and surprise--Lo was a warrior