s having been unfordable for the past week, but
at that time falling; and said that if the rain of the past few days
had not extended as far west as the Staked Plains, the river would be
fordable in a day or two.

Before the stranger left us, Flood returned and confirmed this
information, and reported further that there were two herds lying over
at the Wichita ford expecting to cross the following day. With this
outlook, we grazed our herd up to within five miles of the river and
camped for the night, and our visitor returned to his outfit with
Flood's report of our expectation of crossing on the morrow. But with
the fair weather and the prospects of an easy night, we encamped
entirely too close to the trail, as we experienced to our sorrow. The
grazing was good everywhere, the recent rains having washed away the
dust, and we should have camped farther away. We were all sleepy that
night, and no sooner was supper over than every mother's son of us was
in his blankets. We slept so soundly that the guards were compelled to
dismount when calling the relief, and shake the next guards on duty
out of their slumber and see that they got up, for men would
unconsciously answer in their sleep. The cattle were likewise tired,
and slept as willingly as the men.

About midnight, however, Fox Quarternight dashed into camp, firing his
six-shooter and yelling like a demon. We tumbled out of our blankets
in a dazed condition to hear that one of the herds camped near the
river had stampeded, the heavy rumbling of the running herd and the
shooting of their outfit now being distinctly audible. We lost no time
getting our horses, and in less than a minute were riding for our
cattle, which had already got up and were timidly listening to the
approaching noise. Although we were a good quarter mile from the
trail, before we could drift our herd to a point of safety, the
stampeding cattle swept down the trail like a cyclone and our herd was
absorbed into the maelstrom of the onrush like leaves in a whirlwind.
It was then that our long-legged Mexican steers set us a pace that
required a good horse to equal, for they easily took the lead, the
other herd having run between three and four miles before striking us,
and being already well winded. The other herd were Central Texas
cattle, and numbered over thirty-five hundred, but in running capacity
were never any match for ours.

Before they had run a mile past our camp, our outfit, bunched well