Our task consisted in riding the river and tributary streams and driving the cattle back on the range.  The men at the ferry told us that the Columbias were friendly and to be trusted.  They cautioned us that the country further up the river and Rock Creek was frequently raided by roving bands of Snake Indians.  These savages were hostile at all times, and this was one reason it was desirable to prevent the cattle straying too far and thus falling an easy prey to the Snakes.  They also said it would be prudent to keep a sharp lookout when riding too far south.  We continued riding and driving in the cattle for a couple of weeks, hoping for the return of the Smiths before venturing too far.  But they not returning, we decided to go up Rock Creek above the cattle and drive them down.

The first day we traveled leisurely along and made about twenty miles.  That night we camped and made our beds in a rye grass bottom, having previously cooked our supper and riding until after dark.  This was done to prevent any roving band of Snakes that might be in the country from discovering our camp and attacking us at disadvantage.  The old gentlemen Driskol was uneasy and he and his son watched our camp time about.  I offered to take my turn, but the old gentleman said “the boy will go to sleep,” an arrangement very satisfactory to a tired, sleepy-headed boy.  The next morning we packed up and rode to a favorable place and cooked our breakfast.  While we were eating an Indian rode into camp, who hailed us in jargon and we assumed at once that he was a Columbia.  He said he had lost a horse while deer hunting and if we were going any further south he would like to travel with us.  We thought little of the matter and readily gave permission, the more so as he carried a good rifle and would be a welcome addition to our party in the event of a “scrap” with the Snakes.  As we proceeded up Rock Creek, we still found cattle tracks and were loth to turn back.  We halted at noon to rest our horses and cook our dinner by the side of a pool in the bed of a creek.  While the younger Driskol was getting dinner, the elder Driskol keeping a watch, a wild goose lit in the pond 20 feet away.  Picking up my rifle I shot its head off.  I will now confess that if ever a foolish, thoughtless boy got a scolding I got it then and there, from the elder Driskol.  He declared I was trying to bring “the Snakes right down to murder us all.”  I was sorry of course for my thoughtlessness, but all the same I got my goose.  That evening that goose was the subject of many lectures, was in fact a continued story.

As evening wore on and we were getting further and further away from our camp on the John Day, we were more than usually careful.  Patches of willows, narrow canyons and high rye grass bottoms were avoided.  In fact, we kept on open ground where we could see an enemy several hundred yards away.  We figured that in an open field fight we could more than hold our own, notwithstanding the fact that we were only