54 EARLY DAY STORIES. 



There were many things that tended to make this trip 

 interesting. Among other things, while we were traveUng 

 along the Platte valley with Capt. Wells' train, some mem- 

 ber of the company had a greyhound, a very tall, fleet dog 

 that was a great favorite. He would chase antelope every 

 time one came near enough so that he could see it, but I 

 think he was never able to catch one, although they had 

 to get right down to business and do their best to keep out 

 of his reach. 



One day two of the men were about sixty rods away 

 from the wagons, trying, I think, to get some prairie chick- 

 ens, having the dog with them. A big wolf started up out 

 of the grass, and the dog gave chase. The ground was 

 perfectly level, and the chase was a fine one, and all in 

 plain sight of the wagons, as the wolf, instead of running 

 north toward the hills, kept right on west the way we were 

 going. The dog caught him in a short distance and at 

 one snap disabled one hind leg — the wolf turned, but the 

 dog got out of the way. Again the wolf started to run, 

 and the dog caught him again and soon had both hind legs 

 crippled. The wolf then stopped to fight and refused to 

 run, when one of the men came up near enough and shot 

 him. The dog and wolf did not clinch, and the dog was not 

 hurt at all. 



While in camp opposite Ft. Laramie a number of young 

 Indians visited our camp with their bows and arrows and 

 began shooting at a mark. The men would put an old 

 fashioned cent in a split stick and placing it at a distance 

 of ten steps away, the Indians would shoot at it, the cent 

 going to the one that could hit it. 



After awhile, borrowing a bow and arrows from one 

 of the Indians I tried my luck at it, and found that I could 

 shoot about as well as the Indians. 



It surprised them very much that a white man knew 



