While at Las Vegas Reece purchased three goats, thinking that their milk would be beneficial to him. They furnished a bountiful supply of milk, and very rich milk it was, too, though of a rather strong and disagreeable taste and odor. He failed, however, to realize any great benefit from its use, so far as I remember. Our first noonday camp after we left Las Vegas was near a ranch, and as we were resting under the shade of the wagons after dinner, the owner of the ranch, a native New Mexican, visited us, with a good looking shepherd dog following him. Reece expressed admiration for this dog, which, the Mexican declared, was excellently well trained for herding, easily controlled and a valuable animal in other respects. After considerable negotiation, the Mexican agreed to sell the dog to Reece for two plugs of tobacco. Reece procured a rope, and the Mexican tied the dog to the rear axle of one of the freight wagons, soon afterward taking his departure for his ranch a mile or more distant. Shortly the dog became restless and made efforts to get loose. The teamsters began to laugh at Reece about the uncertain character of his newly acquired property, saying that the Mexican well knew that he could not keep the dog, and that he would soon make his escape to return home. Reece declared that he would prevent this at least and went to a wagon and brought forth a gun. Standing the gun against the wagon under which the dog was fastened, Reece resumed his efforts to enjoy a noonday siesta under a neighboring wagon. He was aroused by one of the drivers, who shouted to him that his dog was running off in the direction of his home. The dog had gotten two or three hundred yards away, ascending a ridge in a gallop when Reece jumped up, seized the gun, leveled it at the dog and fired. To his surprise, no less than ours, the dog fell dead. We rejoined the other part of the train at a camp near Fort Union, and here in this camp we remained for several days.