As a precaution against the very difficulty which I had encountered,—I mean the impossibility of keeping a man and team with me,—I had obtained from the Secretary of War, through the efforts of Professor Alexander Agassiz, a letter of introduction to the commanders of western posts, requesting them to assist me by every means in their power not inconsistent with the public service. With this letter from the Honorable Robert T. Lincoln, a son of our martyred President, I started out on the twelfth of March for Fort Sill, on a pony hired from a livery stable. I was assured that it was only sixty miles to the Fort, and that the pony could easily take me there in a day, but I soon found that he was just off grass, and weak and thin. I also discovered, after night had overtaken me, that I had been put on the wrong cattle trail. I reached a house in the evening, that of a school-teacher, who, because of his having had some education and possessing the ability to talk intelligently, was known in that region as “Windy” Turner, in distinction from “Bull” Turner, a cowman. I found him to be a gentleman.
The next morning he gave me directions as to how to reach the old trail that led to the Fort. I was to go to Wagoner’s cattle camp, where the trail crossed Beaver Creek, and spend the night there. I traveled nearly all day, and reached the ranch building, the only house I had seen since I left the school-teacher’s, only to find the camp deserted. Not a man nor a cow was in sight. As I had had no lunch, I was very hungry, and this being my first visit to this region, I did not know where to turn for food and shelter. At last, however, I saw a horseman coming toward me from the northeast, and rode to meet him. He was a cowboy. I inquired where Wagoner had gone, and learned that he had left a few days before for the Indian Territory. I was told, moreover, that the nearest place at which I could get a meal was back on Coffee Creek, which I had left in the morning. When I complained of being cold and hungry and of not liking to sleep in my saddle blanket on the ground without supper, the cowboy replied that he had not had a morsel to eat for three days and that he had slept for three nights in his saddle blanket. After that I said no more.