"All right, Bill, he's your dog," replied Jack, "but he's mighty welcome here an' he's a lot of help to us minding camp."
"No doubt of it, for he's got more sense than some people have. I can talk to him an' tell him to do things, an' he seems to understand 'most everything I say to him an' will do just what I tell him to."
"Bill," I asked, "do the officers at the garrison seem to think there's any danger of the Indians going on the war-path?"
"Well, no, I don't think they really expect any outbreak," replied the scout, "but Injuns, you know, are the most uncertain varmints on earth; an' on account of taking away the regulars an' putting green volunteers to garrisoning the posts on the plains, it's more'n likely that the Injuns'll soon discover the difference an' take advantage of the chance to raise a ruction. I've got to look up the Kiowas first, 'cause they're the most likely ones to make trouble; an' when I find their winter camp I'll stay with 'em a few days, to kinder feel of 'em an' see what sort of a humor they're in, an' then I'll hunt up the Cheyennes an' Arapahoes next an' feel of their pulses, too. An' while I'm a-doing that job French Dave an' the other fellows'll be looking up the Comanches an' Prairie Apaches--they generally range between the Cimarron an' Red River, an' ain't likely to come up this way before grass comes, anyway, but the Kiowas an' Cheyennes'll need watchin'."
"Well, when you get back you must call around here and let us know what you think of the prospect for peace or war--that is, if you find out anything," I said.
"How many of you will go on this trip?" asked Tom.
"Only two--me an' John Adkins. You see, Frenchy is to take a man with him an' round up the country south of the Arkansas, along the Cimarron an' the Canadians, an' I'll take Adkins with me an' scout the country north till we find the camps."
Next morning, after breakfast, Wild Bill, followed by Found, took the trail back to Fort Larned. Jack and I made our usual round of the baits in the forenoon, skinned the dead wolves that we found lying about them, brought in the skins and pegged them down to dry.
In the afternoon we started out afoot to kill some fresh meat for our mess, the Irishman going up the creek in search of antelope or deer while I walked down to the slough to see if there were any water-fowl there to be picked up. I killed a sand-hill crane and returned to camp. Jack had done better than I, having killed a large deer and come back and taken Prince out to carry the meat in. Tom had outdone us both, having killed four antelope without leaving camp.