Penrose, having no hope that he would be found, had sent back a company of the Seventh Cavalry to Fort Lyon for supplies.  As yet no word had been heard from them.  The rations brought by Major Brown arrived none too soon.  They were the means of saving many lives.

Almost the first man I saw after reaching the camp was my true and tried friend, “Wild Bill.”  That night we had a jolly reunion around the campfires.

When General Carr came up with his force, he took command of all the troops, as he was the senior officer.  When a good camp had been selected he unloaded his wagons and sent them back to Fort Lyon for supplies.  He then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, started south for the Canadian River.  The remainder of the troops were left at the supply camp.

I was ordered to accompany the expedition bound for the Canadian River.  We struck the south fork of this stream at a point a few miles above the old adobe walls that were once a fort.  Here Kit Carson had had a big Indian fight.

We were now within twelve miles of a new supply depot called Fort Evans, established for the Third Cavalry and Evans’s expedition from New Mexico.

The scouts who brought this information reported also that they expected the arrival of a bull-train from New Mexico with a large quantity of beer for the soldiers.

“Wild Bill” and I determined to “lay” for this beer.  That very evening it came along, and the beer destined for the soldiers at Fort Evans never reached them.  It went straight down the thirsty throats of General Carr’s command.

The Mexicans living near Fort Evans had brewed the beer.  They were taking it to Fort Evans to sell to the troops.  But it found a better market without going so far.  It was sold to our boys in pint cups, and, as the weather was very cold, we warmed it by putting the ends of our picket pins, heated red-hot, into the brew before we partook of it.  The result was one of the biggest beer jollifications it has ever been my misfortune to attend.

One evening General Carr summoned me to his tent.  He said he wanted to send some scouts with dispatches to Fort Supply, to be forwarded from there to General Sheridan.  He ordered me to call the scouts together and to select the men who were to go.

I asked if I were to go, but he replied that he could not spare me.  The distance to Camp Supply was about two hundred miles.  Because of the very cold weather it was sure to be a hard trip.  None of the scouts were at all keen about undertaking it, but it was finally settled that “Wild Bill,” “Little Geary,” a half-breed, and three other scouts should carry the dispatches.  They took their departure the next day with orders to return as soon, as possible.

We scouted for several days along the Canadian River, finding no sign of Indians.  The general then returned to camp, and soon our wagon-train returned with provisions from Fort Lyon.  Our animals were in poor condition, so we remained in different camps along San Francisco Creek and on the North Fork of the Canadian till “Wild Bill” and his scouts returned from Fort Supply.