Early on the morning of August 2, 1879, our tiny detachment left San Antonio on our long journey. One wagon carried a heavy, old-fashioned square piano, and on top of this was loaded the lieutenant's household goods. At the rear of the wagon was a coop of game chickens, four hens and a cock, for Lieutenant Baylor was fond of game chickens as a table delicacy, though he never fought them. His family consisted of Mrs. Baylor, two daughters--Helen, aged fourteen, and Mary, a child of four or five years--and Miss Kate Sydnor, sister of Mrs. Baylor. The children and ladies traveled in a large hack drawn by a pair of mules. Rations for men and horses were hauled in a two-mule wagon, while the rangers rode on horseback in advance of the hack and wagons. Two men traveling to New Mexico in a two-wheeled cart asked permission to travel with us for protection. Naturally we made slow progress with this unique combination. As well as I can remember, 1879 was a rather dry year, for not a drop of rain fell upon us during this seven hundred-mile journey. When we passed Fort Clark, in Kinney County, and reached Devil's River we were on the real frontier and liable to attack by Indians at any time. It was necessary, therefore, to keep a strong guard posted at all times. Around our camp fires at night Lieutenant Baylor entertained us with accounts of early days on the frontier. He was born August 24, 1832, at old Fort Gibson in the Cherokee nation, now the State of Oklahoma. His father, John Walker Baylor, was a surgeon in the United States Army. Lieutenant Baylor was a soldier by training and by inheritance. In 1879 he was in his forty-seventh year and stood six feet two inches tall, a perfect specimen of a hardy frontiersman. He was highly educated, wrote much for papers and magazines, was a fluent speaker and a very interesting talker and story-teller. He was less reserved than any captain under whom I ever served. He had taken part in many Indian fights on the frontier of Texas, and his descriptions of some of his experiences were thrilling. Lieutenant Baylor was a high-toned Christian gentleman and had been a member of the Episcopal Church from childhood. In all the months I served with him I never heard him utter an oath or tell a smutty yarn. He neither drank whisky nor used tobacco. Had he written a history of his operations on the frontier and a biography of himself it would have been one of the strangest and most interesting books ever written.