itaw country, and would take that sight in on the way. Just then 
the cook bawled out that dinner was ready, and we all started for 
the cook tent, and were soon storing away the good things to eat. 
McCline made us feel real welcome in a cowboy way—every fel¬ 
low helps himself. I listened to the cowboy yarns until I was tired 
of hearing about their bucking ponies, and the cattle, and where the 
different outfits were located. Bill seemed to enjoy this—however, 
I took no interest. They couldn’t have given me their cattle and 
outfit if that would have meant staying to look after them. I saw 
nothing that appealed to me in the cattle business, but at that time 
the territory was a cattle’s paradise, and there was not enough stock 
to make an impression even on the grass. 
Bill and I pulled out for the Delaware camp next morning. We had 
the South Canadian River to ford, which was bad quicksand in places. 
Bill and I rode into the treacherous river about midway, which was 
not more than three feet of water, and our ponies began to plunge, 
and as they plunged they sank deeper in the quicksand. Bill and I 
had to dismount at once to save our ponies. After we had dismounted 
the ponies began to relieve themselves by lunging, and at the same 
time we had to constantly keep on the move or we would go down. 
We finally reached the bank, but our saddles and blankets were all 
wet, so we unsaddled, wrung out our blankets and resaddled again 
and rode on toward the Delaware village, which was between the South 
Canadian and Washataw River. We had rough riding as there was 
sand, and sand hills to climb all day. The Delawares were located 
on some creeks that entered into the Washataw. We reached the 
Delaware village in the early part of the night. Bill had no trouble 
in making himself known, and we were invited into a tepee by Joe 
Pooler, the interpreter for the tribe, which was not more than 300 in 
number. Joe’s tepee was built out of poles and covered with a 
matting made of water grass that grew in that section. The tepee 
was about ten feet high and about the same width. The fire was 
built in the center of the tepee, and the smoke went out of a hole 
in the top. There were benches and beds the full circle of the tent, 
and in a few minutes the tepee was full of Indians, all of whom seemed 
to know Bill and most of them spoke English. Bill seemed to be 
perfectly at home, and told them that he had brought Squeagochathe, 
the white Indian, along to teach them how to trap. He told them 
to all shake hands with me, which they did, and asked me many 
questions about trapping. The Indians had had their supper when 
Bill and I arrived, but they prepared one for us, and Joe Pooler led 
us into another tepee where four squaws were cooking. Their table 
was crude, and they still used the wooden bowls, plates and spoons. 
Bill and I enjoyed the meal very much; the squaws were good 
cooks, and we had not eaten decently all day as everything we had 
had become soaking wet when we crossed the river. 
After supper the Indians could see we were tired, so they pre¬ 
pared a bed in Joe Pooler’s tepee for us. Before the bunch retired 
they sat around the circle and laughed and talked. I could hear them 
— 63 — 
