Well, we finally got going back towards home. If the weather had been good it would have been about two day’s ride, but about ten o’clock a bad storm came up and by noon it was a real blizzard and out there on the plains you couldn’t see a thing or know what direction you were going in, but after wandering around for some time we came to a coulee that we recognized (Verta Grease Coulee). It was about 25 miles long and we knew it put into Milk River which was the direction we wanted to go, also we knew there was a ranch on Milk River at the mouth of this coulee. We followed this ravine all day and about night came to the ranch. They welcomed us in and gave us a good supper and a feather bed to sleep in. It was a terrible blizzard and I think we would have lost our lives if we hadn’t found this ranch. My partner was rather a spooky fellow and had some kind of a phobia. He was always worrying about a cancer or some other dreaded disease, so while we were lying in that good warm bed and talking how lucky we were to find this ranch a funny thought came to me to give my partner a scare. He had his head covered up and was about to go to sleep. I nudged him and said, “Bill, I forgot to tell you that this place was quarantined for Smallpox a short time ago,” and he made one jump and landed out in the middle of the room and said, “My God, I would rather go right out into the blizzard than stay here!” Then I had a hard time to convince him I was joking and I don’t think he rested very well the rest of the night. He told me afterwards I gave him the worst scare he had ever had in his life. We got home the next night and it was a very profitable trip, as I had found three head of horses I didn’t know I owned. Somewhere on the trip I had got lousy and I believe I had more lice on me than any man that ever walked in public, and big ones too. My wife threatened to make me sleep with the dog, but finally took pity on me and let me sleep in the house, providing I would sleep in a room by myself. I don’t know if all Canadian Greybacks are as big as those were, but I had to boil all my clothes about three times to get rid of those big tough babies. CHAPTER XIX MEMORIES OF CHARLIE RUSSELL I first met Charlie Russell in the fall of the year 1888. He was night herding beef cattle on the Judith Basin and Moccasin Range roundup. Charlie was very modest and never claimed to be a great cowboy, but I noticed the bosses always gave him a very responsible job, as the cowmen of those days were very particular how the beef cattle were handled.