At sundown we reached the Cimarron, and went into a nice warm camp.  The next morning, on looking around, we found that Penrose, who was not encumbered with wagons, had kept on the west side of the Cimarron.  Here the country was so rough that we could not stay on the trail with wagons.  But we knew that he would continue down the river, and the general gave orders to take the best route down-stream, which I found to be on the east side.  Before we could make any headway with our wagon trains we had to leave the river and get out on the divide.

For some distance we found a good road, but suddenly we were brought up standing on a high table-land overlooking the beautiful winding creek that lay far below us.  How to get the wagons down became a serious problem for the officers.

We were in the foothills of the rough Raton Mountains.  The bluff we were on was steep and rugged.

“Cody,” said General Carr, “we’re in a nice fix now.”

“That’s nothing,” I replied.

“But you never can take the train down.”

“Never mind the train, General.  You are looking for a good camp.  How does that valley suit you?”

“That will do,” he said.  “I can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down is a puzzler.”

“By the time your camp is located the wagons will be there,” I said.

“All right,” he returned.  “I’ll leave it to you, inasmuch as you seem to want to be the boss.”  He ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain.  When the wagon-train, which was a mile in the rear, came up, one of the drivers asked: 

“How are we going to get down there?”

“Run down, slide down, fall down—­any way to get down,” I told him.

“We never can do it,” said another wagon-master.  “It’s too steep.  The wagons will run over the mules.”

“Oh, no,” I said.  “The mules will have to keep out of the way.”

I instructed Wilson, the chief wagon-master, to bring up his mess-wagon.  He drove the wagon to the brink of the bluff.  Following my directions, he brought out extra chains with which we locked both wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them.

This done, we started the wagons down the hill.  The wheel-horses, or rather the wheel-mules, were good on the hold back, and we got along beautifully till the wagon had nearly reached the bottom of the declivity.  Then the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on the run and came galloping down into the valley to the spot General Carr had selected for his camp.  There was not the slightest accident.

Three other wagons followed in the same way.  In half an hour every wagon was in the camp.  It was an exciting sight to see the six-mule teams come almost straight down the mountainside and finally break into a run.  At times it seemed certain that the wagon must turn a somersault and land on the mules, but nothing of the kind happened.