The wagon boss and several of the drivers were sitting at the fire waiting for me.  As I came up to the fire, the wagon boss said, “What in the name of common sense was the racket about?  Why, some of the time this evening there was such a noise over there that we could not hear ourselves think, much less talk.”

I answered, “Why, I was just having a good dance with the squaws, and as they all wanted to dance with me first, they made a little noise over it.”

He asked, “How many squaws were there in the dance?” and I told him I reckoned there were about a thousand in the crowd.

“And did you dance with a thousand squaws?” he inquired.

I answered, “Why, I certainly could not show any partiality there, could I?”

He said, “Well, if you have danced with that many squaws, I guess you are tired enough to sleep sound.”

So we bid each other good night and turned in, and in a few moments silence reigned over the camp.

We pulled out of this camp the next morning and did not see an Indian for the next three days.  On the third evening, as we were getting ready to camp for the night, I discovered a small band of Indians coming directly towards us.  I told the wagon master where to corral the train, and I then left him and rode on to meet the Indians.  As I drew near them, I saw that I knew them all.  They were a small band of Comanches, and when I met them they told me that they had been on a visit to the Kiawah tribe and were hurrying to get back to the main Comanche village.  I told them of the peace dance I had taken a part in at the main village a few nights before, and they expressed much regret that they had missed the fun.

I asked them if there were many more of their tribe down the country they had come from.  They answered, “No more Comanches that way, all gone to village,” which proved to be a fact, for we did not see another Comanche Indian on this trip.

I remained with the train four days after this, and, seeing that my services were no longer needed, I told the wagon master that the train was out of danger, as we had passed through the Comanche country, and there would be nothing to interfere with their progress, so I would leave them the next morning.

In the morning, when the wagon boss told the men that I was going to leave them, a number of them came to me and insisted on my taking at least ten dollars from each of them in payment for the bargain I had made with the Comanche Chief regarding the passage of the train on its way to Santa Fe.

Of course, I did not accept their hard-earned money.  I told them that I was glad of the privilege of saving their lives.  And besides, the Government would pay me for my services.

Cook John had a nice sack of bread ready for me, and I accepted his gift gladly.  I bid them all good bye and struck out for Bent’s Fort, and it was about as lonesome a journey as I ever made in my life.  I avoided the Indian villages when I could, for I knew that the Indians would take more of my time than I could spare if I stopped at all.