Among the teamsters was a Mexican, whose name I have forgotten. One morning Captain Chiles got up earlier than usual, at break of day, in fact, and, while waking up the men he discovered this Mexican beating one of his oxen severely with bow of the ox yoke. This was a gross violation of the rules, but when Captain Chiles censured him in pretty strong language he talked back to him in a threatening manner. Thereupon the captain, drawing one of the two navy pistols swinging to a belt around his waist, holding it in one hand, and with a heavy blacksnake whip in the other, advanced upon him and proceeded to give him a severe flogging with the whip. The Mexican was held fast by the threatening aspects of the navy pistol pointed at him all the while until he had received a very severe flogging. The following night the Mexican “skipped out,” and was never seen by us afterwards, but no doubt made his way to the settlements of New Mexico, then not more than 200 miles distant. Hunting game, other than buffalo, along the Santa Fé trail at that date was, to one attached to a train and dependent upon its movements, necessarily confined to a narrow scope of country on either side of the road, within a mile or two. It was impossible to know at what moment one might meet with Indians and be attacked by them. At that time of the year the game was kept back from the highway by the frequent passage of trains, while a few miles off from the road there was no trouble to find antelope and white-tail deer. I was compelled to hunt alone or not at all. My friend Reece had become too much worn out by the travel and his continued ill health to take much interest in hunting, while Captain Chiles was kept busy with his duties about the train. But I was continually on the lookout for game; I rarely traveled the road, but would ride a mile or so from it on one side or the other, always carrying my holster pistols, and usually, in addition the big shotgun belonging to Captain Chiles. My buffalo horse seemed to have a very clear understanding of travel over the plains, having, as before stated, the experience of a journey from California to Missouri the previous year. He seemed to have an instinctive idea of the locality of the train, even when it was traveling, and often when riding him a mile or more from the road and completely out of sight, when given the rein he would instantly change his course in the proper direction to intercept the train.