six miles, when, from the freshness of it, fearing that we might be
seen, we turned back. The Indians had many ponies and possibly some
cattle, though the sign of the latter was hard to distinguish from
buffalo. Before quitting their trail, we concluded they were from one
of the reservations, and were heading for their old stamping ground,
the Pan-handle country,--peaceable probably; but whether peaceable or
not, we had no desire to meet with them. We lost little time, then, in
returning to the herd and making late and early drives until we were
out of that section.

But one cannot foresee impending trouble on the cattle trail, any more
than elsewhere, and although we encamped that night a long distance to
the north of the abandoned Indian camp, the next morning we came near
having a stampede. It happened just at dawn. Flood had called the cook
an hour before daybreak, and he had started out with Honeyman to drive
in the _remuda_, which had scattered badly the morning before. They
had the horses rounded up and were driving them towards camp when,
about half a mile 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