ced all entries in a four-mile race to Wyandotte,
winning $250 for his owner, who had been laughed at for entering such
an unprepossessing animal.

I lost track of him after that. For several years I did not know what
had become of him. But many years after, while in Memphis, I met Mr.
Wilcox, who had once been superintendent of construction on the Kansas
Pacific. He informed me that he owned Brigham, and I rode out to his
place to take a look at my gallant old friend. He seemed to remember
me, as I put my arms about his neck and caressed him like a long-lost
child.

When I had received my appointment as guide and scout I was ordered to
report to the commandant of Fort Larned, Captain Daingerfield Parker. I
knew that it would be necessary to take my family, who had been with me
at Sheridan, to Leavenworth and leave them there. This I did at once.

When I arrived at Larned, I found the scouts under command of Dick
Curtis, an old-time scout of whom I have spoken in these reminiscences.
Three hundred lodges of Kiowa and Comanche Indians were encamped near
the fort. These savages had not yet gone on the warpath, but they were
restless and discontented. Their leading chief and other warriors were
becoming sullen and insolent. The Post was garrisoned by only two
companies of infantry and one troop of cavalry. General Hazen, who was
at the post, was endeavoring to pacify the Indians; I was appointed as
his special scout.

Early one morning in August I accompanied him to Fort Zarrah, from
which post he proceeded, without an escort, to Fort Harker.
Instructions were left that the escort with me should return to Larned
the next day. After he had gone I went to the sergeant in command of
the squad and informed him I intended to return that afternoon. I
saddled my mule and set out. All went well till I got about halfway
between the two posts, when at Pawnee Rock I was suddenly jumped by at
least forty Indians, who came rushing up, extending their hands and
saying, "How?" "How?" These redskins had been hanging about Fort Larned
that morning. I saw that they had on their warpaint, and looked for
trouble.

As they seemed desirous to shake hands, however, I obeyed my first
friendly impulse, and held out my hand. One of them seized it with a
tight grip and jerked me violently forward. Another grabbed my mule by
the bridle. In a few minutes I was completely surrounded.

Before I could do anything at all in my defense, they had tak