Summary

John R. Cook The Border and the Buffalo: An Untold Story of the Southwest Plains

It was the year that that Spartan band of buffalo hunters, at the Adobe Walls, withstood the siege of all the able-bodied warriors of the Cheyenne, Arapahoe, Kiowa and Comanche tribes. It was that summer, on the Washita divide, that a mere apology, in point of numbers, of an escort and train guard resisted, charge after charge, with blood-curdling yells, more than a thousand of the best warriors of the southern wild Indians.
Source: Gutenberg

John R. Cook The Border and the Buffalo: An Untold Story of the Southwest Plains

Any one who has attempted to crawl up close to a hostile Indian camp on a dim, moonless, starlit night will realize the necessity of using the utmost precaution, and can imagine to what a tension the nerves are keyed. The whir of a night-thrush, the flutter of a disturbed bird, a misstep, a stumble, an involuntary cough or a sneeze, or anything that would attract an alert ear which might be in close proximity,—all these things must be taken into account; and together, in a locality that had not been seen in daylight, will produce a peculiar feeling.
Source: Gutenberg

John R. Cook The Border and the Buffalo: An Untold Story of the Southwest Plains

We had grass in abundance for our saddle-horses and pack-burros. Our camp was at the margin of a clear, beautiful rivulet bordered with water-cress and fringed with quaking-asp. At night we tied our riding-horses to trees, and turned them loose in the daytime. Mr. Justice's mountain-climber was a free lance, the doctor's was hobbled, and mine had a bell on.
In the daytime the burros would graze off a hundred yards or more, but as twilight came on they would edge in toward camp. And all night long they would stay close to the camp-fire.
Source: Gutenberg

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