about staying there, if I had any stock along, for the stables were full, and the ranch, too; and they had no room for any additional people or stock.  I told them that I had two teams standing outside, and that it was my intention to put the mules and my pony in the stable; and if there was no room there, I should make room by turning out some of their animals.  To this I was plainly told that I could neither turn a mule out nor put an animal in, nor could I remain at the ranch, which they had occupied for their own quarters, Jack Morrow having left and gone East, probably never to return.  They said they were a little stronger in numbers than myself and my two drivers, and I must move on or they would make me.  I told them that I was a United States officer, acting under orders, and that it would be an easy matter for me to ride back to Cottonwood and get men enough to enforce my orders unless they submitted.  Several of the rough-looking fellows said that they each carried good revolvers, and that it was an easy matter to stop me if I attempted to return to Cottonwood, and swore they would do so.  I remained quiet for a moment, and the leader of the party looking at me, asked:  “What are you going to do about it?” “I am going to open the stables and put my animals in that shelter,” I replied, at the same time mounting my pony and riding out to the stables, a short distance in front of which stood my teams.  Several of the frontiersmen got up, and, without saying a word, walked to the stables, and went up close to the doors.  I ordered the teamsters to drive to the stables, unharness from the heavy ox-wagons, place their teams inside, and if they could not find vacant stalls enough, to untie and turn loose mules to empty the required number for my teams.  The teamsters obeyed by driving up, and when they had dismounted and were about to unhitch from the wagons, one of the wood-haulers at the stable door said:  “You can save yourself the trouble, mister, of unhitching them mules, for you ain’t a going to put them in this stable; and the first man that attempts it I’ll fix.”

“Suppose I wish to open that door and put up my teams,” said I, “without any trouble; wouldn’t it be better for all concerned?” “You go to h—­l!” he replied; and added, “You won’t get in this stable; that’s settled.”  “I’ll see about that!” and yelling “Turn out!  Turn out!” in the Indian language, my soldiers jumped from the canvas-covered wagons, yelling like demons, and brandishing their carbines and revolvers in a threatening manner.  Never were men so taken back as the wood-haulers.  They were sure we were Sioux, and started to run, but I called them back.  Not a word was then spoken while my Indians led the mules, that were now unhitched, into the stables.

Leaving the teamsters to feed and water their animals, I turned my pony over to an Omaha, to unsaddle, and marched my soldiers up to the house, of which I took possession.