fore supper was ready, a dozen
Indians filed solemnly into our camp and sat down facing the fire.
They said nothing, but followed your mother's every movement with
watchful eyes. If your mother tasted the brew in the brass kettle,
every Indian eye followed her hand, and every Indian licked his lips
eagerly. The brass kettle was about the only cooking utensil we
possessed, and your mother guarded it carefully.

"This night the kettle held a savory stew of buffalo meat. When the
stew was done, your mother set it off the fire to cool. During a few
seconds--while her back was turned--the kettle vanished. From the
shelter of the wagon I saw an Indian reach out stealthily and slip it
beneath his blanket. The next moment your mother was facing the silent
circle with blazing eyes. And there, hundreds of miles from a
settlement, with no help at hand, she defied a dozen Indians. In spite
of the fact that she weighed just ninety-two pounds, she swept around
the circle slapping the surprised braves, pulling their hair and
demanding the kettle. She noticed that the chief was sheltering
something beneath his blanket. At once she gave his blanket a jerk.
The hot brew spilled over the surprised redskin's legs. There was a
yell that rent the stillness. The fellow leaped high into the air, and
vanished into the night, leaving the brass kettle behind him."

Little did my parents realize that their recounted experiences would
eventually lead me, still a boy, to venture into new regions.

At ten years of age I hazarded the statement that I was old enough to
shift for myself; that I was going West to live the rest of my life in
the Rocky Mountains. But my parents, in order to frighten me out of my
plans, told me that Indians still infested the wilds; that terrible
bull buffaloes and horrible grizzly bears roamed the wilderness.

These attempts to frighten me only strengthened my desire for adventure
and my determination to seek it. When all else failed I was told that
I was too young to strike out for myself. At last father put his foot
down firmly, a sign that his patience was at an end--so I postponed my
adventure.

The day finally came when I was aboard a train, heading westward,
toward the mountains of my dreams. I possessed twenty dollars, my
entire savings. During the journey I hardly slept, but kept watch out
the window for the first glimpse of the Rockies. I have no
recollection that there were sleeping cars at