there was very little hope of Rome
ever regaining its former splendor and prosperity, I sent my wife and
daughter Arta--who had been born at Leavenworth in the latter part of
December, 1866--to St. Louis on a visit. They had been living with me
for some little time in the rear part of our "store."

At this time Mr. Rose and myself had a contract under Schumacher, Miller
& Co., constructors of the Kansas Pacific, for grading five miles of
track westward from Big Creek, and running through the site of Rome.
Notwithstanding we had been deserted, we had some small hope that they
would not be able to get water at the new town, and that the people would
all soon move back to Rome, as we really had the best location. We
determined, therefore, to go on with our grading contract, and wait for
something better to turn up. It was indeed hard for us, who had been
millionaires, to come down to the level of common railroad contractors--
but we had to do it, all the same.

We visited the new town of Hays almost daily, to see how it was
progressing, and in a short time we became much better acquainted with
Dr. Webb, who had reduced us from our late independent to our present
dependent position. We found him a perfect gentleman--a whole-souled,
genial-hearted fellow, whom everybody liked and respected. Nearly
every day, "Doc." and I would take a ride over the prairie together
and hunt buffalo.

On one occasion, having ventured about ten miles from the town, we spied
a band of Indians not over two miles distant, who were endeavoring to get
between us and the town, and thus cut us off. I was mounted on my
celebrated horse Brigham, the fleetest steed I ever owned. On several
subsequent occasions he saved my life, and he was the horse that I rode
when I killed sixty-nine buffaloes in one day. Dr. Webb was riding a
beautiful thoroughbred bay, which he had brought with him from the East.
Having such splendid horses, we laughed at the idea of a band of Indians
overtaking us on a square run, no matter how well they might be mounted;
but not caring to be cut off by them, we ran our steeds about three
miles towards home, thus getting between the braves and the town. The
Indians were then about three-quarters of a mile distant, and we stopped
and waved our hats at them, and fired some shots at long range. There
were thirteen in the party, and as they were getting pretty close to us,
we struck out for Hays. They came on in pursuit and sent severa