464 
FOREST AND STREAM 
April 13, 1912 
tween the two guns. I managed to conceal my 
surprise, however, and replied that I would trade 
even. It was now his turn to be surprised, for 
he evidently expected that I would name a sum 
beyond his ability to raise. The eagerness with 
which he acceeded to my terms showed that he 
feared I would reconsider the offer on longer 
consideration. 
I practiced with that rifle until I could hit 
almost anything within the range of my vision. 
It was too heavy for quick shooting, but with 
time to bring the sights into use, it would do 
accurate work. The report sounded like the 
crack of a whip, and there was not the slightest 
recoil. 
I had heard tales of wild turkeys in the timber 
along the Neosho, but careful and repeated scour¬ 
ing of the forests in question failed to reveal 
such game. My sportsman instincts revolted 
against the slaughter of prairie chickens at this 
season of year, just as they were mating. 
It required the exercise of no inconsiderable 
ingenuity to distribute my effects upon Skeezik’s 
back and still leave space for myself. When 
finally it was accomplished, it looked like an ani¬ 
mated corner of my grandfather’s garret. Skee- 
zik stood with his accustomed phlegmatic stoi¬ 
cism, as if in a brown study, during the stowing 
and strapping process. It was not till I had 
clambered into the saddle and gotten the stirrup 
straps and leggings adjusted that he appeared to 
evince the least degree of interest in sublunary 
matters. Then something about the aggregation 
jingled. Skeezik’s ears pricked up. his head 
turned to one side, and with a snort he straight¬ 
ened his legs and flew upward with a jerk. A 
hurried inventory, when the pony had resumed 
a pacific attitude, revealed the ground for yards 
around strewn with items of a tenderfoot’s out¬ 
fit. 
But at last, seated in the midst of my belong¬ 
ings, I turned Skeezik’s head westward and 
loped out of town. It was not, however, till 
several hours that the animal was fully restored 
to confidence and consented to jog along with¬ 
out throwing his head around every minute or 
two to inspect his awkward trappings. 
That night I stopped with a Dutchman bur¬ 
dened with the name Solomon Stradivarius Mot- 
senbocker, and yet he had lived through chicken 
pox, measles, mumps and whooping cough and 
arrived at a man’s estate. 
My first experience with a prairie thunder 
storm was a revelation to me of the might and 
stupendous grandeur of nature in commotion. 
It was on the fourth day out of the Neosho 
Valley. All the morning the air seemed strange¬ 
ly oppressive, lacking its customary exhilarating 
qualities. It was not till almost ii o’clock that 
any breeze was noticeable, and then it came in 
hot, spasmodic spurts that seemed to scorch 
rather than temper the sweltering traveler. 
Skeezik vS'as restless and ill-natured. He would 
toss his head every now and then, sniff the 
breeze and give a vicious leer. Occasionally a 
jackrabbit would bound along the trail, and dis¬ 
covering us, leap into the bordering sward. 
These animals I subsequently learned seldom 
travel in the open trail unless in an urgent hurry. 
Presently a reddish haze appeared along the 
western horizon, which gradually overspread the 
whole sky, giving it a weird, brassy look. Then, 
away in the northwest, the outlines of a cloud 
evolved from the haze, spreading rapidly and 
growing blacker. Another cloud appeared fur¬ 
ther southward, unrolling itself with astonish¬ 
ing rapidity and uniting with the first cloud al¬ 
most directly overhead. By this time the wind 
had died away. The clouds assumed a sort of 
greenish hue which was reflected upon the earth, 
putting everything into a sickening gloom. My 
heart throbbed and a sense of nausea seized me. 
I looked vainly around for a friendly roof, but 
naught save the wide rolling prairie met my 
gaze. Just as I had concluded that I would 
have to make the best of a highly unpleasant 
situation, Skeezik stopped short, wheeled, put his 
feet together and refused to move. It was but 
the work of a moment to unfasten my great 
rubber blanket, whose size I welcomed most 
gladly then, for by puckering it with the throat 
straps into a cone which I slipped over or above 
my head, its ample folds completely enveloped 
me and covered the pony from his shoulders 
backward. By this time the clouds were roll¬ 
ing and tossing, and there was a roar of com¬ 
ing wind. It was almost dark, and the air 
stifling. Then of a sudden there was a mighty 
blaze as electric flame swept from zenith to 
horizon accompanied, not followed, by a crash 
of sound that fairly shook the earth. I could 
feel Skeezik tremble, but he moved not. Like 
spent balls from a distant firing squad came a 
volley of hail stones which stung when they 
struck, and then the rain. I had heard -of rain 
which came in sheets, but in this case it was as 
if a flying torrent of unknown depth and width 
had suddenly been let loose. The pony, swayed 
by the shock, braced himself more firmly and 
stood fast. It seemed as though I would be 
torn from my saddle and borne away by the 
flood, but I shut my teeth and clung to the pom¬ 
mel. Occasionally, above the crash and roar of 
thunder, I heard a strange hissing sound as of 
a million pounds of pent-up steam escaping 
through a narrow orifice. When the storm had 
passed and I saw but a few rods distant a wide 
stretch of prairie swept clean of grass, and in 
elevated spots of turf, the mystery was par¬ 
tially explained, though I did not then appre¬ 
ciate the horror of the fate which had come so 
close to me. Two months later, on witnessing 
the work of a Kansas cyclone, I appreciated the 
terrors of the monster from which I had been 
delivered. 
I could form some idea of the amount of water 
that fell during the ten minutes that the storm 
raged, for a little ravine fifteen feet in depth, 
over which I had passed dry shod just before 
halting, was now a muddy torrent. Because of 
the depth of the mud I quit the trail on resum¬ 
ing my journey, keeping to the high, firm ground. 
A little beyond where I. quitted it, the trail took 
a turn to the southward, a fact I failed to notice 
at the time and consequently I lost my way. 
While the sun remained I was able to hold to 
a general westward course, but after sunset I 
rode blindly on. After an hour I reached a 
grove of timber and had about decided to make 
my first camp. 
“Hold up!” 
I started as if a blow had struck me, and Skee¬ 
zik snorted and evinced a disposition to run 
away. Quieting him, I turned back as a man 
strode out of the shadow and confronted me. 
In the dim- light I could see that he held some¬ 
thing in his hand which I needed not to be told 
was a pistol. Instinctively my own hand sought 
the holster of my saddle when the voice again 
sounded, its owner’s arm coming up to a level 
with the range of my head at the same time. 
“Hold up yer hand, quick 1 Don’t yer make 
another move ef yer wants ter live. Now, who 
be yer, an’ what be yer doin’ in these ’ere dig- 
gin’s ’t this time o’ night?” 
I told him truthfully who I was and demanded 
to know who he was, and by what right he 
assumed to be an inquisitor. 
This seemed to please the man. “I ’low yo’ 
hasn’t ’sociated a right smart in these diggin’s,” 
he said, “but I ruther likes yer makeup; it’s a 
goodish bit fur t’any ranch er shack whar yer’d 
be likely ter git ter stay t’night, an’ ef y’ain’t 
perticular on style, yo’ kin bunk in with us.” 
I dismounted without hesitation, gave Skeezik 
into the hands of a man who appeared at the 
call of my companion and accompanied the latter 
into a comfortable shack which was completely 
concealed from external view in a dense alder 
thicket. There were four men in the cabin just 
sitting down to a meal of broiled meat and corn 
pone. The odor of the meat assured me it was 
not bacon, for which I was thankful. A moment 
later I was regaling myself upon the first elk 
steak I had ever tasted, and I doubt if there 
was ever a meal relished with keener zest. 
After supper I bethoi^ht me r-f the quart bottle 
of whiskey in my sdMle bags. I brought it in 
and gave all hands a good nip, which put every 
body in good humor and established my own 
footing with the company. 
The men told me there had been a great deal 
of horse and cattle stealing going on in South¬ 
ern Kansas, and the authorities being unable to 
suppress it or bring the thieves into custody, 
they had made up a posse and were then, they 
believed, on the track of several of the worst 
desperados. When I awakened next morning it 
was broad daylight, and to my surprise I found 
myself the sole occupant of the shack. All the 
trappings and effects of the party had been re¬ 
moved with the exception of a much-worn 
blanket which had evidently been thrown over 
me when the men departed. Though wondering 
what could have occasioned their hurried de¬ 
parture, I could but feel grateful for their con¬ 
sideration on finding a large slice of venison and 
a liberal section of pone on the slab table, which 
they had evidently left for my breakfast. My 
first thought was of Skeezik, and not without 
some apprehension I rushed out to find him not 
only safe, but contentedly munching the, remains 
of a half dozen ears of corn kindly supplied 
by the retiring party. I then made a hearty meal 
and got under way. 
As I rode along, pondering upon the events 
of the night, the thought struck me: “Where 
did those men get the elk meat?” I had'been 
repeatedly told that no elk existed east of the 
Osage, and that river, according to the same in¬ 
formation, was still at least one hundred miles 
to the southwest. If, as they had told me, my 
companions of the night were neighboring ranch¬ 
men, how happened it that they should be thus 
supplied- with the product of a territory so far 
distant? But nothing suggested itself to throw 
light upon the matter. 
I had descended into a dry ravine, skirted by 
a little grove of scrub oak, when I came upon a 
party of eight men just saddling up after having 
camped there for the night. A short, stout man 
seemed to be the leader of the outfit. I jumped 
