When I lived with the Northwest Mounted Police, working for the Montana cattlemen, I kept three horses furnished me by the cow outfits. I had very little to do. My horses were fed plenty of grain by the police and the sergeant detailed a policeman every two weeks on cook duty. Most of those boys had been raised in the city. Some of them were highly educated and were remittance men who had come from very wealthy families in England and were given a small allowance from their families. So they knew nothing about the West or camp life. The result was we got some very poor cooking, but they were perfect gentlemen and had the highest sense of honor I have ever known. They had never known mosquitoes before (and we had plenty of them on Milk River in summertime). They called them “blooming American flies” and said “they not only bite one through to the pores of the skin but would bloody well bite through your trousers.” In the wintertime we were quite isolated, as the snow usually got very deep and there wasn’t much travel. We played whist (which I believe is an old English game) those long winter evenings for 25 cents a game and would have some hot arguments as to the rules of the game, so that we all went to bed mad every night—but everybody would be ready for play again the next night. If someone from the outside had heard us, it would have been like the man shipwrecked on an island who thought he was in a country of nothing but wild animals. He finally saw campfire smoke. He crawled up close to listen and find out what it was, when he heard someone say, “What the hell did you play that ace for?” He thought for a moment and said, “Thank God, I am in civilization.” CHAPTER VII IN THE JUDITH BASIN COUNTRY OF MONTANA When I was a kid, an old Indian told me a story about the badger and coyote and said they hunted together as partners. I had a very good chance to test that story when I was living on Milk River, as the badger and coyote were very plentiful. I have watched them travel together all right—but came to the conclusion the coyote forced his company on the badger. I think the coyote is the smartest animal that stands on four legs and a natural thief. I have watched them travel together for miles. The coyote would be about 50 or 60 yards behind. Now the badger is a natural digger and when he comes to a squirrel hole or prairie dog hole, he digs him out. I have seen a coyote watching him while he was digging and as the badger would always bring his game out of the hole to eat it, the coyote would grab it and run, and the badger being slow on foot and the coyote very fast, he would always get away with the spoils. I am sure there is no affection between them—and the coyote would kill and eat the badger if he could.