e from the wagon, four old buffalo bulls ran
quartering past the horses. This was tinder among stubble, and in
their panic the horses outstripped the wranglers and came thundering
for camp. Luckily we had been called to breakfast, and those of us who
could see what was up ran and secured our night horses. Before half of
the horses were thus secured, however, one hundred and thirty loose
saddle stock dashed through camp, and every horse on picket went with
them, saddles and all, and dragging the picket ropes. Then the cattle
jumped from the bed ground and were off like a shot, the fourth guard,
who had them in charge, with them. Just for the time being it was an
open question which way to ride, our saddle horses going in one
direction and the herd in another. Priest was an early riser and had
hustled me out early, so fortunately we reached our horses, though
over half the outfit in camp could only look on and curse their luck
at being left afoot. The Rebel was first in the saddle, and turned
after the horses, but I rode for the herd. The cattle were not badly
scared, and as the morning grew clearer, five of us quieted them down
before they had run more than a short mile.

The horses, however, gave us a long, hard run, and since a horse has a
splendid memory, the effects of this scare were noticeable for nearly
a month after. Honeyman at once urged our foreman to hobble at night,
but Flood knew the importance of keeping the _remuda_ strong, and
refused. But his decision was forced, for just as it was growing dusk
that evening, we heard the horses running, and all hands had to turn
out, to surround them and bring them into camp. We hobbled every horse
and side-lined certain leaders, and for fully a week following, one
scare or another seemed to hold our saddle stock in constant terror.
During this week we turned out our night horses, and taking the worst
of the leaders in their stead, tied them solidly to the wagon wheels
all night, not being willing to trust to picket ropes. They would even
run from a mounted man during the twilight of evening or early dawn,
or from any object not distinguishable in uncertain light; but the
wrangler now never went near them until after sunrise, and their
nervousness gradually subsided. Trouble never comes singly, however,
and when we struck the Salt Fork, we found it raging, and impassable
nearly from bank to bank. But get across we must. The swimming of it
was nothing, but it was necessa