Of course, it didn’t do any harm to anyone as the grass was going to waste and somebody should get benefit out of it. The amusing part about it was that my job was to keep all American cattle from crossing the line and to have all or as many as possible to drift across. But the Mounted Police and I got along fine. I butchered the finest beef I could find and that was all they wanted or cared about and didn’t question how many American cattle came into Canada. I sure had a lot of fun with those policemen. A great many of them came right out of the city of London, England, and knew nothing about the West or Western ways. While I was there the Mounted Police force bought a bunch of horses from a big horse outfit for the police to ride to patrol the line. Those horses had been broke by cowboys that rode and handled horses much different from the regimental way and the policemen had a great deal of trouble with some of those horses. There was one horse brought to a police station on Milk River that they could not ride and in order to get rid of him there had to be made a very lengthy report. I read that report and it covered a whole sheet of paper. It went into details as to his disposition, how he had bucked off several policemen, giving the name of each man, and pictured the horse as a regular man-eater. At any rate it took about a month to get this horse condemned. Then they detailed an army officer and a policeman to go and bring this horse to army headquarters, which was 100 miles. They stayed over night at Writing on Stone where I was at that time. I tried to get the officer to give me five dollars to ride the horse. He said he could not do that but would like very much to see him rode. So I rode him. He was a very nice horse and as far as bucking, he didn’t jump two feet off the ground. A lady could have rode him. I joked the officer about the horse and he said the main objection was no one could mount him in regimental way. My description of the regimental way of getting on would be to fall on, instead of getting on and, of course, the horse didn’t savvy that. I tried to buy the horse, but they couldn’t sell him until he had went through the form of being condemned, which was surely some red tape. Charlie Russell spent one summer in Canada and told me a funny experience he had. There was an old retired army captain up in northern Canada who went into the cattle business and had occasion to swim a bunch of cattle across quite a large river. He tried for several days and in different ways to make those cattle cross the stream but couldn’t make it work.