t events. At noon
that day, rumblings of thunder were heard in the Black Hills country to
the west, a warning to get across the river as soon as possible. So
the situation at the close of the day was not a very encouraging one
to either Forrest or myself. The former had his cattle split in two
bunches, while I had my wagon and remuda on the other side of the river
from my herd. But the emergency must be met. I sent a messenger after
our wagon, it was brought back near the river, and a hasty supper was
ordered. Two of my boys were sent up to the dry wash to recross the
river and drift our cattle down somewhere near the wagon-crossing, thus
separating the herds for the night. I have never made claim to being
overbright, but that evening I did have sense or intuition enough to
take our saddle horses back across the river. My few years of trail life
had taught me the importance of keeping in close touch with our base
of subsistence, while the cattle and the saddle stock for handling them
should under no circumstances ever be separated. Yet under existing
conditions it was impossible to recross our commissary, and darkness
fell upon us encamped on the south side of the Big Cheyenne.

The night passed with almost constant thunder and lightning in the west.
At daybreak heavy dark clouds hung low in a semicircle all around the
northwest, threatening falling weather, and hasty preparations were made
to move down the stream in search of a crossing. In fording the river to
breakfast, my outfit agreed that there had been no perceptible change
in the stage of water overnight, which quickened our desire to move at
once. The two wagons were camped close together, and as usual Forrest
was indifferent and unconcerned over the threatening weather; he had
left his remuda all night on the north side of the river, and had
actually turned loose the rescued contingent of cattle. I did not mince
my words in giving Mr. Forrest my programme, when he turned on me,
saying: "Quirk, you have more trouble than a married woman. What do I
care if it is raining in London or the Black Hills either? Let her rain;
our sugar and salt are both covered, and we can lend you some if yours
gets wet. But you go right ahead and follow up Sponsilier; he may not
find a crossing this side of the Belle Fourche. I can take spades and
axes, and in two hours' time cut down and widen that wagon-way until the
herds can cross. I wouldn't be as fidgety as you are for a large