We had with us on this scout Mike Lynch, a pure Irishman. Though he was old and gray-headed, he was a good ranger, and had much native wit. One morning it was Uncle Mike's turn to go on scout duty, but in a few hours he was seen coming into camp with his horse, Possum, on the jump. He reported a fresh Indian trail about ten miles north of our camp. When asked how many pony tracks he had counted, Lynch at once declared he had counted seventeen and thought there were more. As the Indians usually came in on foot or with as few ponies as they could get by on until they could steal others, Sergeant Hawkins suspected the tracks Lynch had seen were those of mustangs. The excited scout declared vehemently that the tracks were not those of wild horses but of Indians. The sergeant was just as positive that no Indian party was responsible for the trail, and the two had quite a heated argument over the tracks. "But how do you know it is an Indian trail?" demanded Hawkins. "Because I know I know," cried out Lynch in a loud voice. That settled it. Horses were saddled and mules packed as quickly as possible, and the rangers marched over to the suspicious trail. When Sergeant Hawkins examined the trail he soon discovered that the sign had been made by mustangs but could not convince the hard-headed Irishman until he followed the trail two or three miles and showed him the mustang herd quietly grazing under some shade trees. Uncle Mike did not mention Indian trail any more on that scout. Though we did not find any trails or Indians the scouting party killed two black bear, several deer and about fifteen wild turkey. Early in September, 1875, Captain Roberts again ordered Sergeant Hawkins to take fifteen men and make a ten days' scout on the Brady Mountains. To my great joy I was detailed on this expedition. When near the head of Scalp Creek, Menard County, on our return trip, the sergeant told the boys to keep a sharp lookout for a deer, as we would reach the San Saba by noon and would camp on that stream for the night. We had not traveled far before Ed Seiker killed a nice little spiked buck. We strapped him on one of the pack mules, and when we arrived at the river we came upon a flock of half-grown wild turkeys. Bill Clements leaped from his horse and killed six of them. We then camped, hobbled and sidelined our horses and put a strong guard with them. While some of the boys were gathering wood for our fire they found an old elm stump ten to twelve feet high with bees going in at the top. One of the rangers rode over to Rufe Winn's ranch and borrowed an ax and a bucket. When he returned we cut the tree and got more honey than sixteen men could eat, besides filling the bucket with nice sealed honey, which we gave to Mrs. Winn in return for the use of her ax. Then, after dinner, out came fishing tackle and, using venison for bait, we caught more catfish than the entire crowd could eat.