distance and asked him what he wanted. He exclaimed, "How! Me good
Injun, me good Injun," and tried to show me the dirty piece of paper on
which his agency pass was written. I told him with sincerity that I was
glad that he was a good Indian, but that he must not come any closer. He
then asked for sugar and tobacco. I told him I had none. Another Indian
began slowly drifting toward me in spite of my calling out to keep back,
so I once more aimed with my rifle, whereupon both Indians slipped to
the other side of their horses and galloped off, with oaths that did
credit to at least one side of their acquaintance with English. I now
mounted and pushed over the plateau on to the open prairie. In those
days an Indian, although not as good a shot as a white man, was
infinitely better at crawling under and taking advantage of cover; and
the worst thing a white man could do was to get into cover, whereas out
in the open if he kept his head he had a good chance of standing off
even half a dozen assailants. The Indians accompanied me for a couple of
miles. Then I reached the open prairie, and resumed my northward ride,
not being further molested.

In the old days in the ranch country we depended upon game for fresh
meat. Nobody liked to kill a beef, and although now and then a maverick
yearling might be killed on the round-up, most of us looked askance at
the deed, because if the practice of beef-killing was ever allowed to
start, the rustlers--the horse thieves and cattle thieves--would be sure
to seize on it as an excuse for general slaughter. Getting meat for the
ranch usually devolved upon me. I almost always carried a rifle when I
rode, either in a scabbard under my thigh, or across the pommel. Often
I would pick up a deer or antelope while about my regular work, when
visiting a line camp or riding after the cattle. At other times I would
make a day's trip after them. In the fall we sometimes took a wagon
and made a week's hunt, returning with eight or ten deer carcasses, and