AMOS DECKER. 343 



The week rolled around, and our arms were cleaned 

 and oiled, knives sharpened, the covered wagon packed 

 with camping necessities and all ready to hitch the cattle 

 to long before the train of ten wagons hove in sight. By 

 the time they reached my cabin we had the ponies haltered 

 and tied behind, and the two yoke of oxen hitched and 

 ready to fall in the rear of the procession when it passed. 

 We went off to the southwest, and in a few miles struck a 

 well-broken trail near the head of the Verdigris, which 

 they had left some distance back to go out of the way to 

 pick us up. We were out four nights before we reached 

 the Arkansas River, some eighty miles from our place. 

 The country was rolling prairie, with timber along the 

 frequent streams, and on the third day out I saw the first 

 live buffalo, a herd of several hundred, which pungled off 

 like porpoises when we came in sight. I wondered why 

 the men did not chase them, but learned that they were 

 not going to kill a buffalo until there was a chance to 

 camp and go at it with some sort of system. Warren 

 counted heads, and said that the other ten wagons con- 

 tained twenty-five men, and with ours there were thirty 

 ponies in the party. 



Amos seemed to be the leader and directed the 

 movements. We camped near the mouth of a small 

 stream on the north bank of the river; the wagons 

 were arranged so as to form a corral to keep the live 

 stock in at night to prevent a stampede by wolves or buf- 

 falo, but we had to enlarge the circle with logs. The 

 oxen and ponies had been feeding while we were doing 

 this, and then we gathered them in for the night; three 

 guards were appointed to keep watch, one at a time, for 

 fear of accident that might stampede our stock in spite of 

 the corral, and leave us in bad shape. There was danger 

 that some prowling band of O sages, Kaws or other In- 



