The herd was accordingly turned back to Bosque Grande on the river, and we went into permanent quarters.  There was a splendid winter range all along the Pecos, and we loose-herded the beeves or rode lines in holding them in the different bends of the river, some of which were natural inclosures.  There was scarcely any danger of Indian molestation during the winter months, and with the exception of a few severe “northers” which swept down the valley, the cattle did comparatively well.  Tents were secured at the post; corn was purchased for our saddle mules; and except during storms little or no privation was experienced during the winter in that southern climate.  Wood was plentiful in the grove in which we were encamped, and a huge fireplace was built out of clay and sticks in the end of each tent, assuring us comfort against the elements.

The monotony of existence was frequently broken by the passing of trading caravans, both up and down the river.  There was a fair trade with the interior of Mexico, as well as in various settlements along the Rio Grande and towns in northern New Mexico.  When other means of diversion failed we had recourse to Sumner, where a sutler’s bar and gambling games flourished.  But the most romantic traveler to arrive or pass during the winter was Captain Burleson, late of the Confederacy.  As a sportsman the captain was a gem of the first water, carrying with him, besides a herd of nearly a thousand cattle, three race-horses, several baskets of fighting chickens, and a pack of hounds.  He had a large Mexican outfit in charge of his cattle, which were in bad condition on their arrival in March, he having drifted about all winter, gambling, racing his horses, and fighting his chickens.  The herd represented his winnings.  As we had nothing to match, all we could offer was our hospitality.  Captain Burleson went into camp below us on the river and remained our neighbor until we rounded up and broke camp in the spring.  He had been as far west as El Paso during the winter, and was then drifting north in the hope of finding a market for his herd.  We indulged in many hunts, and I found him the true gentleman and sportsman in every sense of the word.  As I recall him now, he was a lovable vagabond, and for years afterward stories were told around Fort Sumner of his wonderful nerve as a poker player.

Early in April an opportunity occurred for a delivery of cattle to the post.  Ours were the only beeves in sight, those of Captain Burleson not qualifying, and a round-up was made and the herd tendered for inspection.  Only eight hundred were received, which was quite a disappointment to the drovers, as at least ninety per cent of the tender filled every qualification.  The motive in receiving the few soon became apparent, when a stranger appeared and offered to buy the remaining seven hundred at a ridiculously low figure.  But the drovers had grown suspicious of the contractors and receiving agent, and, declining