CHAPTER XIII 



CAMPING WITH COMANCHES 



Ward and the officers cheered mightily as I 

 rode into camp, prodding my Bucephalus to his 

 most picturesque efforts, while even the stern 

 visage of Iron Mountain, a Comanche chief, 

 broke into a smile. Ward, in the interests of art 

 and history, outlined the sketch which should 

 adorn these pages. My legs were as short as 

 my horse's were long, and when I could reach the 

 stirrup from the ground I couldn't from the sad- 

 dle. So I used the long stirrup as a stepladder 

 to climb aboard, and for a stirrup put my foot 

 between the straps that supported it. 



Breakfast was on when we arrived and after 

 swallowing a quart of hot coffee I made the ac- 

 quaintance of buffalo hump and buffalo marrow, 

 by eating most of the ribs that composed the for- 

 mer and spreading slices of bread with thick 



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