A RANCHMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS 



of coals through ashes, and he fell asleep, awakening 

 to find his hands and feet free and the sentry nodding 

 over the smoldering fire. He crawled behind a bush, 

 took off his shoes, carrying them in his hand, and 

 made his get-away. Ten minutes later a shot rang 

 out in the woods, followed shortly by more shots. 

 When morning came he hid for the day. The next 

 morning found him at the Missouri River, which he 

 swam to the Kansas side. After the war the captain 

 hunted up the "Reb," gave him a mighty good horse 

 and big boot for the dun. "Yank," said "Reb," 

 "that boss talk of yours did the work; I thought it 

 was a damned shame to shoot a lad who loved a boss 

 like you did, and, after all, you was only doing your 

 duty." As he ended his story, the captain said: 

 "They call me 'nutty' about a horse, but every time 

 I look at my wife and babies I think, after all, a 

 hoss gave them to me, and, next to them, a boss comes 

 first." 



While commanding a band of cavalry scouts — nat- 

 urally all picked horsemen, and crack shots — they 

 took dinner, paying for it, at the house of a woman 

 whose husband was in the Confederate army. The 

 captain had given his men strict orders not to for- 

 age, except in cases of extreme necessity. A mag- 

 nificent mare of the distinct Missouri saddle-horse 

 type, and about six years old, was grazing in a 

 small paddock near the house. The captain and all 

 the men admired her, and "Scotty," a young dare- 



[III] 



