men had had only quarter rations, and were now nearly starved to death.  Over two hundred horses and mules were lying dead, having died from fatigue and starvation.  General Penrose, having feared that General Carr would not find him, had sent back a company of the Seventh Cavalry to Fort Lyon for supplies; but no word as yet had been heard from them.  The rations which Major Brown brought to the command came none too soon, and were the means of saving many a life.

[Illustration:  A WELCOME VISITOR]

About the first man I saw after reaching the camp was my old, true and tried friend, Wild Bill.  That night we had a jolly reunion around the camp-fires.

General Carr, upon arriving with his force, took command of all the troops, he being the senior officer and ranking General Penrose.  After selecting a good camp, he unloaded the wagons and sent them back to Fort Lyon for fresh supplies.  He then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, he started south for the Canadian River, distant about forty miles, leaving the rest of the troops at the supply camp.

I was ordered to accompany this expedition.  We struck the south fork of the Canadian River, or Rio Colorado, at a point a few miles above the old adobe walls, which at one time had composed a fort, and was the place where Kit Carson once had a big Indian fight.  We were now within twelve miles of a new supply depot, called Camp Evans, which had been established for the Third Cavalry and Evans’s Expedition from New Mexico.  The scouts who had brought in this information also reported that they expected the arrival at Camp Evans of a bull-train from New Mexico with a large quantity of beer for the soldiers.  This news was “pie” for Wild Bill and myself, and we determined to lie low for that beer outfit.  That very evening it came along, and the beer that was destined for the soldiers at Camp Evans never reached its destination.  It went straight down the thirsty throats of General Carr’s command.  It appears that the Mexicans living near Fort Union had manufactured the beer, and were taking it through to Camp Evans to sell to the troops, but it struck a lively market without going so far.  It was sold to our boys in pint cups, and as the weather was very cold we warmed the beer by putting the ends of our picket-pins heated red-hot into the cups.  The result was one of the biggest beer jollifications I ever had the misfortune to attend.

One evening General Carr summoned me to his tent, and said he wished to send some scouts with dispatches to Camp Supply, which were to be forwarded from there to Sheridan.  He ordered me to call the scouts together at once at his headquarters, and select the men who were to go.  I asked him if I should not go myself, but he replied that he wished me to remain with the command, as he could not spare me.  The distance to Camp Supply was about two hundred miles, and owing to the very cold weather it was anything but a pleasant trip.  Consequently none of the scouts were anxious to undertake it.  It was finally settled, however, that Wild Bill, a half-breed called Little Geary, and three other scouts should carry the dispatches, and they accordingly took their departure next day, with instructions to return to the command as soon as possible.