We turned our mules into the government corral and went to stop at the hotel. Colonel Fontleroy, on hearing that some one had arrived from Utah, sent for us to come to his office the next day. There had been some uneasiness felt about the company we had traveled with, and a party had been sent out to meet them. The party had gone as far as the Dolores and returned. We had seen their tracks; I wanted to follow their trail, knowing it to be white men's tracks. Stith took them for Indians' and refused to follow me. On meeting the colonel, he, in a very pompous manner, asked me who I was. I replied, "Daniel W. Jones." "Where are you from?" "Salt Lake City, Utah." "How did you come here?" "On a mule." "What is your business--in what capacity have you come?" He was now much excited and asked a series of questions before stopping. I then told him I was a guide in government employ. He asked, "Where are the troops; where is the command you are guiding?" "The last I saw of them they were about seventy miles back. The commander and most of the company drunk." "Why are you not with them?" "I don't like whisky," was my answer. I felt insulted by his manner in first speaking so abruptly to me, and was determined not to give him any satisfaction until he spoke to me in a respectable manner. This he seemed to see and commenced asking his questions more politely. I gave him all the information I could about the moves of the troops on the road. He now approved of my coming ahead. When Stith arrived he made out my account and asked me to sign the vouchers. I thanked him, telling him that I did not need any money and did not wish my discharge just then. He flew into a terrible passion, saying that he could not settle his accounts unless I signed the vouchers. I replied that I had nothing to do with settling his accounts, all I wanted was my transfer back to the command. This he refused me, so we went and bought two mules on credit and went back to the command. We met them at Taos. The quartermaster was glad to see us, as he needed our services. I took the position of both guide and interpreter, Moore continuing as assistant. We got into the farming district about harvest time. There was no forage to be had except fields of grain. These were bought at high prices when animals were turned in over night and a guard placed around them. Often the animals would get into other fields doing some damage. The Mexicans made great complaint, often asking several hundred dollars for damages. The pasturage generally cost from $150 to $200 per night. The quartermaster would generally hand me $500 and tell me to settle. Sometimes I would be two or three hours settling, as the damage sometimes was on various patches.