I think he was gone about half an hour when he came back. His eyes were glassy and he was slobbering at the mouth but very happy. He said. “Me no see cow.” He made me understand the fire water was very fine and wanted some more. I gave him another cupful. He started away singing, to hunt the steer again. He was riding bareback and was leaning pretty much to one side. He went about 50 yards and fell off. When he hit the ground, he completely passed out. About that time the boss got into camp with the lost steer. When he found out what I had done he said, “My God, kid, you will have us both in the pen for giving whiskey to Indians. Yoke up your cattle quick and we will get out of here.” We left him lay where he was. I’ll bet he was a sick Indian when he woke up. The boss sure was mad about it at the time, but had a big laugh over it afterwards. We were six weeks making that trip, and I was a fairly good freighter by that time, but it wasn’t a very good job for a cowboy, as I had to walk too much. CHAPTER IV WITH THE RL OUTFIT In the spring of 1887 I went to work for the “RL” outfit located on the Musselshell River in Montana. The outfit belonged to the Ryan Brothers of Kansas City. They run about 25,000 head of cattle, and run three wagons and worked about 20 men to each wagon, and had about 500 head of saddle horses. That year they had a contract with the government to supply the Sioux Indians with 5,000 beef cattle. We gathered the first herd of 2,500 and trailed them to landing Rock Agency on the Missouri River in North Dakota. We were about four months on the trail and I don’t remember of seeing one wire fence or farming ranch on the trip. We swam those cattle across the Yellowstone River east of Miles City. We were four days trying to get those cattle across. It was in the month of June and at the time of high water—the river was bank full and at least a quarter of a mile wide. We tried every way anybody had ever heard of to get those cattle to take that water. We would bring them to the river every day and fight them all day, but it was no go. We would then drive them back from the river and night herd them and try again the next day. Finally we decided to hold them off water for twenty-four hours, and then drove them all into the river at once. It worked. It was sure some sight, the 2,500 head all swimming at once. We had a wonderful trip after that. We only moved them about eight or ten miles a day and with plenty grass and water they got very fat. It was the custom them days to butcher a calf on anybody’s range, so we had plenty good meat.