September 11, 1863. Tom Tobin did it. I guess Tobin had heard enough about the Espinosas, so when Colonel Tappan asked him if he’d head a party to go find the murderers and bring them in, he accepted. Tobin and Lieutenant Baldwin and fifteen soldiers from the fort set out on September 7th. Tobin trailed Espinosa like he’d trail a deer or an Indian and after several days found him along La Veta Creek. Espinosa was with his cousin and fellow maniac in thick brush when Tobin came on them. Tobin fired and wounded one, while three soldiers fired at once and brought down the other. Tobin then beheaded the two and took the heads to Colonel Tappan. He rolled the heads from the sack and said, “Here Colonel, I have accomplished what you wished. This head is Espinosa’s. This other is his companion’s head and there’s no mistake made.”[3] Since the other Espinosa brother was killed some weeks ago, I guess that ends that little fracas. Tobin didn’t even know about the reward, he says. Some of the local citizens are thinking of giving Tom a Hawkins rifle, like he’s wanted for a long time now, in appreciation for what he’s done. [Illustration: Chief Ouray Painting by Robert Lindneux] May 4, 1864. Transferred last month to the 1st Colorado Cavalry, which means I’ll be hitting the dust trail for summer encampment in a few days. Well, it’ll beat pushing a pen around in that stuffy orderly room or being stable nurse to a bunch of horses. May 6, 1864. Bunch of the boys went over to Posthoff’s last evening for a last blow before leaving the post for the summer. The sutler’s store may have about all a soldier needs in the way of underwear, boots, saddle soap, and the rest, but it stocks no whiskey. Posthoff’s store, being off the reservation proper, takes care of this shortage for us. Posthoff stocks about everything needed in these parts by the civilians too, of course. But last night we tried to drink old Posthoff out of liquor—and almost did. About every man in the 1st Cavalry was there, with pretty Mexican and Indian girls bringing in food and filling our cups. All day long a company of horse soldiers have been sorry they kept such late hours. The smell of dust and saddle leather has done a lot for our thirst, but little for our appetites. It’s days like this that make me wonder if the $17 a sergeant gets each month is worth it. [Illustration: Sunday Morning Barrack’s Inspection.] In Camp, June 2, 1864. Spending a little time now camped in Antelope Park. Camp life isn’t bad; just as many bugles blown during the day as at the fort and just as much work, but a tent’s easier to keep clean than a barrack. Indians here about seem restless. Patrols sent out regularly to keep a check on them. [Illustration: Cavalry Troops Preparing for March.] [Illustration: A Scouting Detail Returning to the Fort.]