While the regiment remained here, waiting for orders, I spent most of my time hunting buffaloes. One day while I was out with a small party, fifty Indians jumped us, and we had a terrific battle for an hour. We finally managed to drive them off, with four of their warriors killed.

With me were a number of excellent marksmen, and they did fine work, sending bullets thick and fast where they would do the most execution.

Two or three of our horses were hit. One man was wounded. We were ready and willing to stay with the Indians as long as they would stay with us. But they gave it up at last. We finished our hunt and returned to the Post with plenty of buffalo meat. Here we received the compliments of General Carr on our little fight.

In a few days orders came from General Sheridan to make a winter campaign in the Canadian River country. We were to proceed to Fort Lyon on the Arkansas River and fit out for the expedition. Leaving Fort Wallace in November, 1868, we arrived at Fort Lyon in the latter part of the month, and began the work of outfitting.

Three weeks before this, General Penrose had left the Post with a command of three hundred men. He had taken no wagons with him. His supply train was composed of pack mules. General Carr was ordered to follow with supplies on Penrose's trail and to overtake him as soon as possible. I was particularly anxious to catch up with Penrose's command, as my old friend, "Wild Bill," was among his scouts.

For the first three days we followed the trail easily. Then we were caught in Freeze-Out Canon by a fearful snowstorm. This compelled us to go into camp for a day.

It now became impossible longer to follow Penrose's trail. The ground was covered with snow, and he had left no sign to show in which direction he was going.

General Carr sent for me, and told me it was highly important that we should not lose the trail. He instructed me to take some scouts, and, while the command remained in camp, to push on as far as possible to seek for some sign that would indicate the direction Penrose had taken.

Accompanied by four men, I started out in a blinding snowstorm. We rode twenty-four miles in a southerly direction till we reached a tributary of the Cimarron. From here we scouted up and down the stream for a few miles, and at last turned up one of Penrose's old camps.

It was now late in the afternoon. If the camp was to come up the next day it was necessary for us to return immediately with our information.

We built a fire in a sheltered spot, broiled some venison we had shot during the day, and after a substantial meal I started back alone, leaving the others behind.

It was eleven o'clock when I got back into camp. A light was still burning in General Carr's tent. He was sitting up to await my return.

He was overjoyed at the news I brought him. He had been extremely anxious concerning the safety of Penrose. Rousing up his cook, he ordered a hot supper for me, which, after my long, cold ride, I greatly appreciated. I pa.s.sed the night in the general's tent, and woke the next morning fully refreshed and ready for a big day's work.

The snow had drifted deeply overnight, and the command had a hard tramp through it when it set out next morning for the Cimarron. In many ravines the drifts had filled in to a great depth. Often the teamsters had to shovel their way through.

At sundown we reached the Cimarron, and went into a nice warm camp. The next morning, on looking around, we found that Penrose, who was not enc.u.mbered with wagons, had kept on the west side of the Cimarron. Here the country was so rough that we could not stay on the trail with wagons. But we knew that he would continue down the river, and the general gave orders to take the best route down-stream, which I found to be on the east side. Before we could make any headway with our wagon trains we had to leave the river and get out on the divide.

For some distance we found a good road, but suddenly we were brought up standing on a high table-land overlooking the beautiful winding creek that lay far below us. How to get the wagons down became a serious problem for the officers.

We were in the foothills of the rough Raton Mountains. The bluff we were on was steep and rugged.

"Cody," said General Carr, "we're in a nice fix now."

"That's nothing," I replied.

"But you never can take the train down."

"Never mind the train, General. You are looking for a good camp. How does that valley suit you?"

"That will do," he said. "I can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down is a puzzler."

"By the time your camp is located the wagons will be there," I said.

"All right," he returned. "I'll leave it to you, inasmuch as you seem to want to be the boss." He ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain. When the wagon-train, which was a mile in the rear, came up, one of the drivers asked:

"How are we going to get down there?"

"Run down, slide down, fall down--any way to get down," I told him.

"We never can do it," said another wagon-master. "It's too steep. The wagons will run over the mules."

"Oh, no," I said. "The mules will have to keep out of the way."

I instructed Wilson, the chief wagon-master, to bring up his mess-wagon. He drove the wagon to the brink of the bluff. Following my directions, he brought out extra chains with which we locked both wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them.

This done, we started the wagons down the hill. The wheel-horses, or rather the wheel-mules, were good on the hold back, and we got along beautifully till the wagon had nearly reached the bottom of the declivity. Then the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on the run and came galloping down into the valley to the spot General Carr had selected for his camp. There was not the slightest accident.

Three other wagons followed in the same way. In half an hour every wagon was in the camp. It was an exciting sight to see the six-mule teams come almost straight down the mountainside and finally break into a run. At times it seemed certain that the wagon must turn a somersault and land on the mules, but nothing of the kind happened.

Our march proved be a lucky one so far as gaining on Penrose was concerned. The route he had taken on the west side of the stream was rough and bad, and with our great wagon-train we made as many miles in one day as he had in seven.

His command had taken a high table-land whose sides were so steep that not even a pack mule could make the descent, and he had been obliged to retrace the trail for a great distance, losing three days while doing so.

The incident of this particular camp we had selected was an exciting turkey hunt. We found the trees along the river bank literally alive with turkeys. After unsaddling the horses, two or three hundred soldiers surrounded a grove of timber, and there was a grand turkey round-up. Guns, clubs, and even stones were used as weapons. Of course, after the hunt we had roast turkey, boiled turkey, fried turkey, and turkey on toast for our fare, and in honor of the birds which had provided this treat we named the place Camp Turkey.

When we left camp we had an easy trail for several days. Penrose had taken a southerly direction toward the Canadian River. No Indians were to be seen, nor did we find any signs of them.

One day, while riding in advance of the command down San Francisco Creek, I heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the opposite bank of the stream. Looking closely at the spot, I saw a colored soldier.

"Sakes alive, Ma.s.sa Bill, am dat you?" shouted the man, whom I recognized as a member of the Tenth Cavalry.

"Come out o' heah," I heard him call to someone behind him. "Heah's Ma.s.sa Buffalo Bill." Then he sang out to me: "Ma.s.sa Bill, is you got any hahdtack?"

"Nary a bit of hardtack, but the wagons will be along presently, and you can get all you want."

"Dat's de best news Ah's heahd fo' sixteen long days, Ma.s.sa Bill."

"Where's your command? Where's General Penrose?" I demanded.

"Dunno," said the darky. "We got lost, an' we's been starvin' ever since."

By this time two other negroes had emerged from their hiding-place.

They had deserted Penrose's command, which was out of rations and in a starving condition. They were trying to make their way back to old Fort Lyon. General Carr concluded, from what they could tell him, that Penrose was somewhere on Polladora Creek. But nothing definite was to be gleaned from the starving darkies, for they knew very little themselves.

General Carr was deeply distressed to learn that Penrose and his men were in such bad shape. He ordered Major Brown to start out the next morning with two companies of cavalry and fifty pack mules, loaded with provisions, and to make all possible speed to reach and relieve the suffering soldiers. I went with this detachment. On the third day out we found the half-famished soldiers encamped on the Polladora. The camp presented a pitiful sight. For over two weeks the men had only quarter rations and were now nearly starved to death. Over two hundred mules were lying dead, having succ.u.mbed to fatigue and starvation.

Penrose, having no hope that he would be found, had sent back a company of the Seventh Cavalry to Fort Lyon for supplies. As yet no word had been heard from them. The rations brought by Major Brown arrived none too soon. They were the means of saving many lives.

Almost the first man I saw after reaching the camp was my true and tried friend, "Wild Bill." That night we had a jolly reunion around the campfires.

When General Carr came up with his force, he took command of all the troops, as he was the senior officer. When a good camp had been selected he unloaded his wagons and sent them back to Fort Lyon for supplies. He then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, started south for the Canadian River. The remainder of the troops were left at the supply camp.

I was ordered to accompany the expedition bound for the Canadian River.

We struck the south fork of this stream at a point a few miles above the old adobe walls that were once a fort. Here Kit Carson had had a big Indian fight.

We were now within twelve miles of a new supply depot called Fort Evans, established for the Third Cavalry and Evans's expedition from New Mexico.

The scouts who brought this information reported also that they expected the arrival of a bull-train from New Mexico with a large quant.i.ty of beer for the soldiers.