io Life of a Fossil Hunter 



In camp, during those early days, we were rarely 

 out of antelope meat, and even now my mouth 

 waters at the thought of the delicious tenderloin, 

 soaked first in salt water to season it and remove 

 the blood, then covered with cracker dust, and fried 

 in a skillet of boiling lard. In those days a hind 

 quarter could be hung up under the wagon in the 

 hottest part of summer, and not spoil. The wind 

 hermetically sealed it, and there were no blow-flies 

 then. The early settlers of a new country bring 

 with them, and protect, their enemies, and destroy 

 their friends, the skunks, badgers, wildcats, and 

 coyotes, as well as hawks, eagles, and snakes, be- 

 cause they kill a chicken or two as a change from 

 their usual diet of prairie dogs and rabbits. 



In those pioneer days the Kiowas, Cheyennes, 

 Arapahoes, and other Indian tribes made constant 

 inroads upon the venturesome settler who, follow- 

 ing the advice of Horace Greeley, had come West to 

 grow up with the country. 



I remember when old Santante, a chief of the 

 Kiowas, came to the post in a government ambu- 

 lance, which he had captured on one of his raids. 

 In time of peace, the Indians belong to the Interior 

 Department of the government, so that all the 

 officer in command at the fort could do was to 

 extend the old chief the courtesy of the army and 

 care of himself and team. Once, at the old stone 



