The old stage drivers “bumped” into many exciting and some amusing incidents. In the Far West “Hank Monk” held the record for fast driving and tall stories. And fictitious or not, “Hank” was the ranking driver in the West. Here it was Bob Ridley, Bill Evans, and Lon Huff—with Bob well out in front. My cousin, Bill Porter, says his uncle Bill Evans told this one. His run took him across the Kickapoo reservation. Whenever his stage would pass the Indian Mission the young Indians would put on a demonstration — race their ponies around the stage, compelling him to stop. Then they would ask for tobacco. Bill was always prepared for them. On one trip out of Saint Joseph he had only two passengers — mere boys, from the East. They said they were going West to fight Indians, and they had the guns strapped on them to do it. Knowing how the young Indian bucks would perform, Bill told his passengers that he was now coming into Indian country, and was liable to be attacked—but they, the boys, must not start shooting until he gave the word. It would be suicidal for them to start the fight. He told them other reasonable and some* highly unreasonable stories about the Indians. The boys were expecting the worst. The young Indian bucks appeared as usual, and circled the stage—yelling, screaming, yelling like assassins pouring out of bedlam. Bill tossed his plug of tobacco out to them—then climbed down from his high seat and looked in on the boys. They were down on the floor, hiding. Before completing his run, the boys told Evans that they were going to abandon the notion of fighting Indians. Bill said, “I told them that I was sure they would change their minds after having one good look at the Indians.” One of the boys said, “We didn’t really get a good look at them—.” but we heard their blood-curdling yells, and that was enough. The other boy said, “What I want to know is—how do we happen to be alive?” After the removal of the Powhattan change station, Henry Gotchell sold to Riley Woodman. Woodman sold to C. C. Grubb, who came to section 33 in 1857. Grubb was postmaster after Gotchell. Mail was carried down from Granada. Later, the Powhattan postoffice was moved to Wetmore. Riley Woodman, father of E. J. Woodman, came in 1863. While the mail and stage now went on the north road, some traffic still followed the old line. In December, 1863, an ox-train transporting Government supplies was snowed in at the Woodman place and remained there until March. In the outfit were seventeen men, two saddle horses, and ninety-six oxen. The Government paid Woodman one dollar a- bushel for corn—not an excessive price, under prevailing conditions. But often freighters and travelers were compelled, in emergencies, to pay ruinous prices for feed. Scarcity and the high cost of provisions at times, also taxed the travelers’ slender resources.