All the hunters assembled at Dodge were convinced that never again would there be a big run of buffaloes that far north, because of the enormous slaughter on that part of their range in 1872 and 1873. Our determination to drift south was opposed some by the handicap of being so far from a hide market. Myers solved this question by deciding to take his outfit and stock of merchandise and pull down into the good buffalo country, somewhere on the Canadian. We had no definite point in view, expecting to locate our camp where grass, timber, water and buffaloes most abounded. Myers was quick to see that a big decline in the buffalo trade at Dodge was at hand, and was willing to take the risk of going with us to get our trade. We did not think much about it at the time, but had we calmly discussed what was ahead of us, all would have seen that the undertaking was not without peril to life. We were leaving such protection as there was in the garrisoned country and plunging into a solitude through which we would have to fight our way, if attacked, or die at the hands of hostile Indians, an enemy that inflicted the most horrible forms of death imaginable, should the victim be captured alive. There would be no getting away by making a fast run to Fort Dodge or Fort Hays; it meant fighting to the last ditch, and victory to the strong. Myers' plan was that every hunter that wanted to go should load his wagons with supplies, such as were used on the buffalo range, for which Myers would pay a liberal freight rate, and upon establishing permanent camp Myers would sell the supplies to the hunters at Dodge City prices. This seemed fair enough. Myers owned two teams and wagons. The organizing of this expedition caused much enthusiasm among the hunters at Dodge, and many wanted to go along. About this time James Hanrahan, a typical frontiersman, who hunted buffaloes on a large scale, came to town. Hearing of the trip we were planning, Hanrahan decided to take his whole outfit and go with us. This was a good boost, as we were delighted to welcome every new-comer, especially a man like Hanrahan, who had lots of nerve and knew all the ins and outs of frontier life. Soon every man was busily engaged in gathering his equipment for the long trip to the new country. There were many things to do, and forgot any necessary part of an outfit would cause annoyance and trouble, as we would be far from a railroad. We had no idea when we would get back to civilization. A lot of fellows at Dodge thought that maybe we might never get back. They narrowly missed making a good guess. Three or four days before we were ready to bid farewell to Dodge, there came from the east a stranger named Fairchild--his first trip to this rendezvous of the buffalo-hunter, the bull-whacker and the "bad" man. Naturally, Fairchild was regarded as a "tenderfoot."