320 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



This buffalo fish is a coarse thing, a relative of the 

 sucker tribe, with a similar mouth ; perhaps it is as good 

 as the carp, but then we had not the carp, and the taste 

 of the buffalo has faded too much in forty years for com- 

 parison. My present notion is that both are worthless 

 as food, but a residence by salt water may have spoiled 

 me for enjoying most fresh- water fish, especially carp 

 and suckers. 



Warren sold his claim and took another while I was 

 still undecided, and we put up a little cabin on the bank 

 of the river and "batched" together. Within a few miles 

 several town sites were laid out with pegs, each with 

 grand parks, court house squares and grand avenues on 



paper. 



"Behind the squaw's light bircK canoe 



The steamer rocks and raves, 

 And city lots are staked for sale 



Above old Indian graves." Whittier. 



The genius of speculation was abroad, and within a 

 radius of five miles there were at least a dozen "future 

 railroad centres" laid out. I only remember "Columbia" 

 on the Cottonwood, where there was a grocery and gin- 

 mill combined, kept by a man named Jeff Thompson. 

 He had maps, and sold lots in the Eastern cities and took 

 in what he could gather. He offered me ten lots in the 

 heart of his "city" for my revolver, but somehow I 

 thought I needed the pistol more than I did town lots. 

 Then there was "Chicago," on top of a bluff, where I shot 

 sandhill cranes later on, which never got beyond the peg 

 and map stage. Warren had a big interest in this, and 

 traded some lots for a yoke of cattle and a wagon. I 

 doubt if there is even a farm house there to-day. Em- 

 poria was laid out high on the open prairie, between the 

 Cottonwood and Neosho, with no water in sight. It was 



