Nov. 7, 1896,j 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
868 
It is all spoiled for us old-fashioned camp dwellers, but 
no more perhaps than our barbarous modes would spoil it 
for these dainty folk. I can imagine how their sensibili- 
ties would be shocked afc the sight of our uncouth I'ving, 
our lairs of boughs and blankets, our unnapered table, 
with the frying-pan serving for platter and common 
plate, no less than our sense of the fitness of things is 
hurt by this flaunting of fashion in the face of nature, 
They wonder at our ways, we at theirs, being unable to 
understand what they can find in all that they enjoy to 
compensate for what we have lost — the freedom from 
care and conventionalities that were ours in these wild 
corners, when the click of the croquet ball, the incongru- 
ous jingle of pianos and the babble of human voices did 
not overbear the whispers of the wind in the trees, the 
songs of birds and the soft laps of waves on quiet shores. 
Rowland E. Eobinson. 
IN SAVAGE WILDS. 
C1MABK03J, Kan. — Dear reader, I want you to go with 
me in spirit to the banks of an almost unknown caflon 
near the Rocky Mountains. I want you to smell 
the soft, health-giving odor of the pinon and cedar 
in those rocky wilds; to sit in a nook and look down 
half a mile at what looks like a little brook at the bot- 
tom of that tremendous oafion; to feel the s^ft kiss 
and life-giving warmth of the glowing sun ; to see the 
gray buck as he springs from his bed and, bounding ofiE a 
few jumps as elastic as a rubber ball, pauses and looks 
back to snort defiance at his enemy, the dim, grass-colored 
hunter; to see the lordly old wild turkey, his feathers 
glistening in the rising sun like bronze armor, as he struts 
on his roosting limb and gobbles till the gloomy cafions 
ring again, and there from afar comes like an echo the 
distant notes of more than one rival, showing that you 
and I are rich in our heritage yet of God's best gifts to 
man. Yes, my friend, it's 1896 and they are not all gone 
yet, and will last our time. My boy can hunt in Sjuth 
America in years to come if all my old places are barren, 
80 I don't despond even for him. There — I've taken a 
prettv big contract when I endeavor to make you see all 
that I have written of, but I'll try to fill it. 
Every fall I grow uneasy. I sometimes try to fight it 
off — for I can't afford to lose a month from my business — 
but it steals over me more and more strongly, till I find 
ice on the pools in the morning and the old gray geese 
go calling awaj up in the sky like a pack of spirit hounds; 
and I can't stand it any longer. I must go. I must sleep 
on the ground. I must fry meat over an open fire. I 
must see my sheep (the deer) again. 
It was November. My old hunting buggy — commonly 
called "Dick's mud wagon" — was thoroughly overhauled 
and repaired. Nothing short of a cyclone could faze it, 
so the blacksmith said. My .45-90 Winchester was re- 
sighted with Freund's sights, and I had made three shots 
into a dollar with it at lOOyds. The tent is overhauled 
and mended. The horses are reshod. They are smooth 
and fat, and the spirit of mischief gleams from their eyes 
as they look at me when I step into the stable. My 
twelve-year-old boy looks at me with dreamy, retrospect- 
ive eyes, and is so contented he doesn't talk much; for he 
is going too. He loves to hunt really better than I do; 
and it does me good to see how handy he is with a gun, 
and how he can dress game; to see him crawl like a cat 
when in pursuit of it, and how he gets there every time. 
God bless him! he vpill hunt many a lovely day when I 
am at rest. 
Nov. 10 we started from Cimarron by buggy for a 300 
mile drive to Miguel's ranch on Rita Azul — southwest 
over the sandhills and over miles and miles of prairie, 
arid, dun- colored and cold. The horses are kept at a 
steady jog trot. Willie lay awake pretty much all last 
night, he was so excited; and now he has curled down in 
a nest of blankets and sleeps, warm and cozy as a kitten, 
while the ponies tug at the bits and try to go faster all 
the time as we roll gayly along over the smooth hard 
road. At noon we stopped, and I took the bridles off the 
horses and had turned them loose to drink. We camped 
near a pool on the prairie, and while they cropped the 
sweet, crisp curly buffalo grass, I made coffee and 
warmed up some roast chicken from provision box No. 1, 
which is for the road. Will woke up when he heard the 
coffee-mill, and stretching out his head like a squirrel 
from his hole, inquired, "Where are we, father?" 
"Thirty miles from Cimarron and nowhere in particu- 
lar is all I can tell you, Will. Get out and fetch me some 
bread, the butter and some pickles, and we will eat 
dinner." 
"That's real good chicken," said Will after he had eaten 
about half a big one. "Mother's an awful good cook, but 
I had rather eat deer meat and kill it myself." 
After dinner Willie fed the horses a few oats while I 
washed up the dishes, and we started again. Will took 
his Winchester (a .44cal., model of '73) out of its case and 
looked at it lovingly. He had never killed anything but 
jack rabbits with it; and a shade passed over his face. 
"I'm afraid I can't kill deer with this." 
"Don't worry, Will. You can and will kill a deer 
within two weeks with that gun. I have killed a carload 
with one just like it when I was a cowboy." 
"Were you a real cowboy, father?" 
"Yes, I think I was. I owned a stock of cattle for 
seven years, and was so successful with them that my 
Texan neighbors did not always love me as warmly as they 
might, if they had wanted to. We are going now straight 
to my old stamping ground, and I'll tell you a story every 
night after I get there of what we used to do." 
And we trotted on till almost dark, and arrived at one 
of the most woebegone-looking little Kansas prairie towns 
that I ever had the misfortune to see. The little cluster 
of houses looked as if they had strayed off and got lost 
out there, and yet it had a kind of a don't-care-a-cent 
look about it after all, as if it wasn't much afraid to be 
out there all alone. Its name is Santa FeJ 
We drove in and put our buggy in the stable, and then 
Willie and I carried our guns over to the hotel and 
also two pairs of blankets, for these frontier hotels are 
generally scarce of bed covers. Then we went back and 
covered the wagon sheet over the buggy and load, and 
tied it down tight so as to discourage inquisitive strangers. 
When we got back to the hotel supper was ready, and a 
wretchedly poor one too for a hungry man And boy; but 
BiU didn't grumble, and I was ashamed to. But the land- 
lord was a gentleman, and owned up like a little man 
that the supper was poor. He said that we should have 
a better breakfast or that he would kill the cook. I told 
him not to do that, for I didn't believe that he would be 
good to eat if he did, for he looked thin and tough. Bill 
inquired of me privately, after we went to bed, about the 
cook. If that man killed the cook wouldn't they do any- 
thing to him out here, or was it too far from court? I ex- 
plained to him that the landlord was only joking, and 
Bill seemed disappointed. 
We went to bed early and I didn't slepp much; the bed 
was bard and nubbley, The wind rose soon after dark 
and the old barn of a house rocked and pitched and 
creaked like a ship at sea. I was nervous and longpd to 
get up; but there ^as no stove in the room and I hated 
to go down-stairs and thump around in the office, so I lay 
and equirmed till toward morning, while Willie slept like 
a kitten. Finally I dozed off and V/ill woke me up, say- 
ing: "That man wants us to come to breakfast, and says 
he has got the best of that cook this time. Let's go down 
and see what he has done to him." 
We found a nice breakfast awaiting ua cooked by a 
master hand; Ham omelet, Saratoga chips, milk toast, 
stewed dried beef on toast and good strong coffee. "How 
did you make him cook like this?" I wonderingly in- 
quired of the landlord, who beamed upon us coffee pot in 
hand. "Oh, I fixed him, I let him sleep and cooked 
this myself." I love that landlord. He is a good cook 
and a gentleman, and when he charged me $3 a few 
minutes later I told him that his breakfast alone was 
worth that. He looked at me candidly and said : "I wish 
I had charged you more, but I thought you would kick at 
$3." He gave me a cigar that I lit and almost immedi- 
ately threw away, for it was not nice. 
In ten minutes more we were rolling along toward the 
West. Another day over almost barren prairie, and we 
camped in 'a roofless sod house and drank water from a 
water hole. It was Will's first night in camp. We put 
up the tent inside the house and cooked a nice supper; 
and as he looked around at our cozy quarters he said 
that he didn't want to stop in hotels any more this trip. 
We slept soundly, and it was late next morning when 
we started and drove southwest. Just before we reached 
the head of Two Butte Creek, Will called my attf ntion 
to six objects about two miles ahead. Stopping and look- 
at them with the field glass, we saw that they were ante- 
lope. They were on a side hill sloping toward the east, 
near the trail that we were driving on. 
The wind was blowing straight from us to them, and 
though I could have got a shot by driving straight for 
them, for an antelope won't run down wind when you 
scare him, yet Will was not strong enough to hold the 
horses after I had got them excited by running, so I had 
to employ different tactics. I drove south about two 
miles, and then drove west down into Two Butte Creek 
Valley, then north till I reached the trail. I knew that 
we were then west of the antelope and not over a mile 
from them. We picketed out the horses, which were 
steaming from their fast six-mile drive, unskinned the 
rifles, put on our leather pants to crawl on, and away we 
went. Will was trembling with excitement, and looked 
as if he was scared, I told him to crawl beside me 
6Et, away, and shoot as soon as he saw the game, if 
they were within 200yds.; to aim sure and not to mind 
me. 
We crawled to the top of the ridge, and there they 
were, about 150yds. away. Will shot the nearest, but 
too low, and I shot her as she gathered to run, and then 
I stopped, for I didn't want to carry much game on the 
road. I might have killed more, but what was the use? 
We ran to the dne, who was stone dead when we reached 
her — shot through the brisket by Will, and both shoulders 
smashed by my .45-90 ball, "I can hit them, can't I, papa? 
said Will, as he looked at the pretty two-year-old with 
glowing eyes. "I would have hit her if you hadn't shot, 
don't you believe so?" And I told him yes, and truth- 
fully; for his first shot was a good one. 
Will packed the guns and I the antelope to the buggy, 
and when I got there it felt as if it weighed 2501b8. We 
hitched up and drove to water, and soon you could have 
smelt the savory odor of fat antelope ribs as they sput- 
tered over the fire. They smell even better than they 
taste. 
That night we camped at Milligan's sheep ranch on 
Freeze-out Creek. No one was there, and the house had 
a board over the door with the following legend: 
: « 'BEwAlr oF sMai. pOx." : 
I am satisfied that it was a bluff, but I didn't want to 
camp in the house, and we passed a comfortable night in 
our tent. At daybreak we were on the move for the last 
day's drive, and with only a short stop at noon at last 
passed a little Mexican plaza, where more than one gave 
a Comanche yell of recognition as they saw me. Two 
miles from there we approached the foot of the Raton 
Mountains, went over the last; ridge, and then Miguel's 
house was in sight. It looks like a big mud- wasp's nest. 
Luis, his son, came out and darted back into the house 
when we were yet a mile away, and I saw the gleam of 
the field glasses as Miguel inspected me. They both came 
out and as I drove up Miguel smiled a broad smile. He 
said, "By the grace of God, I am contented to see you 
once more. The deer are fat and plenty. The horses are 
doing well. Many colts." 
Then Luis saw the antelope, and Willie said: "I killed 
thati" and from that time on the boys had a time. Will 
couldn't talk Mexican, and Luis, a boy of sixteen, small 
for his age, couldn't talk EagUsh; but they could under- 
stand each other somehow, generally; aad when they 
didn't Miguel or I had to interpret. Before I fairly had 
the horses unhitched Will had got a long box out of the 
load and extracted a .44cal. Winchester for Luis, and the 
boy had got it in his hands and looked at it as if in a 
dream. Will took a belt full of cartridges from the gun 
box and Luis put it on — I never sawhitn without it in his 
waking hours. "The gun and belt are yours, Luis, and 
you and Will can hunt together when you please." I told 
Will what I had said, and those ridiculous boys got up 
ponies and started at once for the hills. As they rode 
away I told Luis to get in by dark, and they came back 
in about two hours and both talking at once. Will in- 
formed me that he could outshoot Luis. They had gone 
off into a valley up in the bills and shot at a mark most of 
the time, 
Inez, Miguel's mother-in-law, cooked us a fancy supper 
of broiled antelope and eggs with chili, and we settled 
down for the nighV, 
The next day we branded colts and straightened up our 
business affairs. Then commenced preparations for a 
camp hunt into the Trinchara Pochet, a piece of country 
that lies straight south of Las Aoimae, and which it iS 
hard to beat as a game country, bu^ is very r ugh. The 
next day we struck out— I wiih my buggy, and Miguel, 
Will and Luis on horseback. Twenty-five miles north 
landed us on the east bank of the Purgatoire Oafion, in a 
little valley near a beautiful spring. Not a soul lived 
within twenty-five miles, and the game is tame, compar- 
atively speaking. 
The horses were fed and picketed with long ropes on 
pood grass, the tent was up and supper was soon going. 
We ate at once, and then all started for a little evening 
hunt, Will and I together, for he is a little fellow and I 
feel somewhat like a hen with one chicken when I have 
him out. We were on the high land on the east bank of 
the Purgatoire Canon. The country is rolling and park- 
like; tViere is timber in clumps, then a little prairie, then 
a hollow with a fringe of timber on each side of it, and 
so on. We went south and sneaked up-wind through the 
scanty timber like ghosts. Both wore rubbers. Wlien 
we came to the fringe of timber on the edge of the hollow 
a big buck rose up quietly on the other side and walked 
behind a cedar tree. We were only SOyds. from him, but 
we couldn't see him. I sat down and told Will to sit and 
get ready. I could hear Will quiver with excitement, 
but I dared not look at him, for I feared that the buck 
would break cover on the .jump, and I meant to get him 
if I could. But no; he at last got curious and stepped out 
in full sight, turned breast toward us, and looked at us 
with his head on one side out of one eye; and William 
shot him twice in the sticking place and once through 
the nose before he could fall down, and then he turned 
flipflops like a big rabbit, and the main thing I had come 
to Colorado for was accomplished. Will wanted to shoot 
him some more, but I stopped him with "Don't shoot. 
Will, you have killed him," and we went down and I let 
Will blf>ed him; and Will crowed and talked like a mill- 
race, I left Will to guai-d the game and I w^ent to camp, 
got the buggy and went back to the deer, It was a big 
lift to get him into the buggy; but I finally got him in 
and we went to camp. Miguel had got in with 
Luis. Ttiey had some rabbits which they were fry- 
ing, and we ate another supper. They had killed another 
deer. 
The next morning the boys went hunting and saw deer, 
but didn't get any; and Luis promised the Virgin Mary 
S^lbs. of candles of gqod quality and not to cost less than 
50 cents if she would let Will and him kill two deer apiece 
that morninsc. Miguel told me privately that he didn't 
believe the Virgin could or would do such a big thing so 
cheap. 
Will went with me at 3:30 P. M. and we saw several 
deer, but didn't get a shot, and I came to camp and made 
a canned peach pie and fried 81bg. of Miguel's doe; and 
then Miguel came in and they bad another deer that Luis 
had shot. He said that he was a boy of his word and 
would burn 15 cents' worth of candles in honor of the 
Virgin when he got home. Which he did; and I played 
casino with Miguel by the light of them. 
We started for home the next morning and got there 
with steaming horses before noon, 
The day after we got back to the ranch I concluded to 
go over into the Cimarron Ciflon, a distance of about ten 
miles, and get some bucksliins, which I had heard that 
a Mexican had got together by purchase, barter and other- 
wise. Will preferred to stay at the ranch and go turkey 
hunting with Luis. Miguel stayed at home to go with the 
boys and take care of them, and 1 struck out alone with 
the bug»ry and my ponies. I found my man all right, and 
bought Oilbs, of buckskins, well tanned and smoked, for a 
three-year-old horse and $14; loaded them into the buggy 
and started back. As I was driving slowly past a Mexican 
house on my return a woman came to the door and looked 
out. It was a white woman and I thought I knew her. 
I stopped, got out and walked up to her. "How do you 
do, Mrs. Wagner?" 
Bhe drew herself up and said: "My name is not Wagner 
and I don't know you," 
"Didn't you cook for me in Cimarron four years ago?" 
"No, sir, my name is Jones and I am from Missouri," 
And she turned and walked into the house, 
I got back into the buggy and rode off, and found out 
that I was mistaken and that the woman was named 
Jones; but it was a disappointment, for I know of over 
$700,000 that is waiting for Mrs. Carrie Wagner, formerly 
of New York State, who came to Kansas about eight 
years ago and cooked for me. She disappeared or rather 
went away, and I could never hear of her wUereabouts 
or her heirs since. Well, this world is a large one, and 
we may get lost ourselves some day. But it was she, I 
think. 
Miguel and the boys were gone when I got in and Inez 
fed me chili and beans and a great, thick, juicy broiled 
venison chop broiled over live coals. It was getting dark 
and she made a curious figure as she sat looking into the 
open fire. Her seat was a sheepskin on the floor, and she 
tore the broiled meat frcm a deer rib with strong white 
teeth and looked into the fire with wicked, bright, black 
eyes, seeming to forget that she was not alone, "What 
are you thinking of, Inez?" 
"Of the boys, I can feel that they are almost here and 
they have game." 
In a few minutes, sure enough, in they came with two 
big old gobblers, and both of them talking at once, Ltiis 
to his grandmother, who looked at him proudly. Will to 
me, "You ought to have been with us to-day; we had 
such a good time. It smells so good up in the csn->n in 
the pines, and we saw two fl.ocks of turkeys, Luis killed 
his out of the first flock and I got mine at the roogt after 
dark. Isn't he a beauty?" And he was indeed. We 
weighed him at once and he pulled down 24|-lb8. Luis's 
bird weighed 20lbs, flat. Miguel soon came in and they 
made the beans and meat suffer, I think my boy Bill is 
hollow clean down to his toes. Luis had used my Win- 
chester shotgun after the turkeys, but said that he pre- 
ferred his rifle. 
Soon we were all settled for the night, every one asleep 
but me, and I dropped off too. 
Well, we hunted more, and at last telegrams found me 
and I had to go home, and the road was long, and I drove 
fast; and at last I saw my wife in the door, and the other 
children were glad to see me, and I put on the derby hat 
and the chain harness of civilization and took up the bur- 
den of life once more. A^f^ revoir. Hasia la manana, 
^. J. Dixon. 
