a lucky march for us as far as gaining on Penrose was
concerned, for the route he had taken on the west side of the stream
turned out to be a bad one, and we went with our immense wagon train as
far in one day as Penrose had in seven. His command had marched on to a
plateau or high table-land so steep, that not even a pack mule could
descend it, and he was obliged to retrace his steps a long ways, thus
losing three days time as we afterwards learned.

While in this camp we had a lively turkey hunt. The trees along the
banks of the stream were literally alive with wild turkeys, and after
unsaddling the horses between two and three hundred soldiers surrounded a
grove of timber and had a grand turkey round-up, killing four or five
hundred of the birds, with guns, clubs and stones. Of course, we had
turkey in every style after this hunt--roast turkey, boiled turkey, fried
turkey, "turkey on toast," and so on; and we appropriately called this
place Camp Turkey.

From this point on, for several days, we had no trouble in following
Penrose's trail, which led us in a southeasterly direction towards the
Canadian River. No Indians were seen, nor any signs of them found. One
day, while riding in advance of the command, down San Francisco Creek, I
heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the
opposite bank, and, upon looking closely at the spot, I saw a negro.

"Sakes alive! Massa Bill, am dat you?" asked the man, whom I recognized
as one of the colored soldiers of the Tenth Cavalry. I next heard him say
to some one in the brush: "Come out o' heah. Dar's Massa Buffalo Bill."
Then he sang out, "Massa Bill, is you got any hawd tack?"

"Nary a hard tack; but the wagons will be along presently, and then you
can get all you want," said I.

"Dat's de best news I'se heerd foah sixteen long days, Massa Bill," said
he. "Where's your command? Where's General Penrose?" I asked.

"I dunno," said the darkey; "we got lost, and we's been a starvin'
eber since."

By this time two other negroes had emerged from their place of
concealment. They had deserted Penrose's command--which was out of
rations and nearly in a starving condition--and were trying to make their
way back to Fort Lyon. General Carr concluded, from what they could tell
him, that General Penrose was somewhere on Polladora Creek; but we could
not learn anything definite from the starved "mokes," for they knew not
where they were themselves.

Havin