After looking around a bit my companion asked me if I would like to see a cock-fight. Sure thing, of course I would, although having been raised a strict Scotch Presbyterian I felt some qualms of conscience about witnessing such an exhibition on the "Sabbath." [Illustration: SATANTA War Chief of the Kiowas Original in our possession, taken by Soule, of Boston, while we were stationed at Fort Sill] The amphitheater in which the exhibition was given was without cover and enclosed by a high adobe wall. It was crowded with men and women, mostly Mexicans, in gala dress, some very richly dressed women and some whose attire attested poverty, but even these wore bright colors. The head covering was universal but as varied in colors and quality as the fancy and wealth of the wearers suggested. I think some of the hats of the men must have cost a small fortune. The exhibition itself was not very attractive to me. I could see the chickens sparring around as though for a good opening and finally one of the cocks would drive the gaff home with deadly effect and the people would shout and clap their hands and exchange the money they had wagered on the result. The management would then bring in another pair of birds for another contest. The betting consisted not only of money but all kinds of trinkets and valuables. I saw one woman take off her white slippers handsomely ornamented with gold braid and spangles and bet them on the result of the contest. The affair was conducted in Spanish-Mexican and I could not understand anything that was said, but they all seemed to be delighted with the exhibition. To me it was not only cruel but was uninteresting. We did not stay until the finish but went out and saw some more of the town, then returned to our hotel. My newly made friend came up to my room after supper, and spent part of the evening with me. I found his experiences interesting. The old story of ups and downs, money to spare, and grub-stakes furnished by some one else, to give him another start. He gave me his address and I was very prompt in returning his twenty dollars as soon as I got to Fort Selden, which by the way, I borrowed from the post trader until pay-day. In answer to my remittance I received a post card without address or date saying, "You needn't have been in such a hurry." Thus ended an acquaintance and experience that I think could not have happened anywhere else than on the American frontier. His name was Robert Daugherty and nothing could give me greater pleasure than to meet him again and furnish him a "grub-stake" if he needed it.