"Oh," he said, he "would help me," he having some forty nigger troopers with him.

"All right," I said, and took the men along with me, got back behind the cattle, spread these novel cowboys out and began to drive, when such a shouting and shooting of guns took place as never was heard before in these parts.

We drove the cattle, really only a thousand head or so, back to the supposed Reservation border, quite unmarked and vague, and so left them, only to wander back again at their leisure to where they had been.

The officer made all kinds of threats that he would turn the Indians loose on them, but nothing more was then done.
At my winter camp, some thirty-five miles below headquarters, there was a good three-roomed frame house, a corral, etc., and the Little Colorado River flowed past near by.

It was to these lower parts of the range that most of our cattle drifted in winter time.