The result was one of the biggest beer jollifications I ever had the misfortune to attend.
One evening General Carr summoned me to his tent, and said he wished to send some scouts with dispatches to Camp Supply, which were to be forwarded from there to Sheridan.

He ordered me to call the scouts together at once at his headquarters, and select the men who were to go.
I asked him if I should not go myself, but he replied that he wished me to remain with the command, as he could not spare me.

The distance to Camp Supply was about two hundred miles, and owing to the very cold weather it was anything but a pleasant trip.

Consequently none of the scouts were anxious to undertake it.

It was finally settled, however, that Wild Bill, a half-breed called Little Geary, and three other scouts should carry the dispatches, and they accordingly took their departure next day, with instructions to return to the command as soon as possible.
For several days we scouted along the Canadian River, but found no signs of Indians.