s must take the lead
across a dry country between the present stream and tributaries of the
Niobrara. The Blue possessed the attributes of a river in name only, and
the third day up it, Sponsilier crossed the tributary to allow either
Forrest or myself to take the lead. Quince professed a remarkable
ignorance and faulty memory as to the topography of the country between
the Blue and Niobrara, and threw bouquets at me regarding my ability
always to find water. It is true that I had gone and returned across
this arid belt the year before, but on the back trip it was late in the
fall, and we were making forty miles a day with nothing but a wagon
and remuda, water being the least of my troubles. But a compromise was
effected whereby we would both ride out the country anew, leaving the
herds to lie over on the head waters of the Blue River. There were
several shallow lakes in the intervening country, and on finding the
first one sufficient to our needs, the herds were brought up, and we
scouted again in advance. The abundance of antelope was accepted as an
assurance of water, and on recognizing certain landmarks, I agreed to
take the lead thereafter, and we turned back. The seventh day out from
the Blue, the Box Buttes were sighted, at the foot of which ran a
creek by the same name, and an affluent of the Niobrara. Contrary to
expectations, water was even more plentiful than the year before, and
we grazed nearly the entire distance. The antelope were unusually tame;
with six-shooters we killed quite a number by flagging, or using a
gentle horse for a blind, driving the animal forward with the bridle
reins, tacking frequently, and allowing him to graze up within pistol
range.

The Niobrara was a fine grazing country. Since we had over two months at
our disposal, after leaving the North Platte, every advantage was given
the cattle to round into form. Ten miles was a day's move, and the
different outfits kept in close touch with each other. We had planned
a picnic for the crossing of the Niobrara, and on reaching that stream
during the afternoon, Sponsilier and myself crossed, camping a mile
apart, Forrest remaining on the south side. Wild raspberries had been
extremely plentiful, and every wagon had gathered a quantity sufficient
to make a pie for each man. The cooks had mutually agreed to meet at
Sponsilier's wagon and do the baking, and every man not on herd was
present in expectation of the coming banquet. One of Forrest's