rritory, in some unaccountable way had got gloriously tipsy,
which caused a loss of time that disgusted me greatly; but as we
could not well do without Joe, I put off starting till the next day,
by which time it was thought he would sober up. But I might just as
well have gone at first, for at the end of the twenty-four hours the
incorrigible old rascal was still dead drunk. How he had managed to
get the grog to keep up his spree was a mystery which we could not
solve, though we had had him closely watched, so I cut the matter
short by packing him into my ambulance and carrying him off to Camp
Sill.

By the time I got back to Sill, the Arapahoes were all in at the
post, or near at hand. The promised surrender of the Cheyennes was
still uncertain of fulfillment, however, and although Little Robe and
his family had remained with us in evidence of good faith, the
messages he sent to his followers brought no assurance of the tribe's
coming in--the runners invariably returning with requests for more
time, and bringing the same old excuse of inability to move because
the ponies were so badly off. But more time was just what I was
determined not to grant, for I felt sure that if a surrender was not
forced before the spring grass came, the ponies would regain their
strength, and then it would be doubtful if the Cheyennes came in at
all.

To put an end to these delays, Custer proposed to go out and see the
Cheyennes himself, taking with him for escort only such number of men
as could be fairly well mounted from the few horses not sent back to
Arbuckle. At first I was inclined to disapprove Custer's
proposition, but he urged it so strongly that I finally consented,
though with some misgivings, for I feared that so small a party might
tempt the Cheyennes to forget their pacific professions and seek to
avenge the destruction of Black Kettle's band. However, after
obtaining my approval, Custer, with characteristic energy, made his
preparations, and started with three or four officers and forty
picked men, taking along as negotiators Yellow Bear and Little Robe,
who were also to conduct him to the head-waters of the Red River,
where it was supposed the Cheyennes would be found. His progress was
reported by couriers every few days, and by the time he got to the
Witchita foot-hills he had grown so sanguine that he sent California
Joe back to me with word that he was certain of success. Such
hopeful anticipation relieved me g