Prairie-dog villages extended west along all the water courses, and open prairies to the state line, and we were rarely out of sight of herds of antelope and wild horses. Near the present site of Gove City, on the south side of Hackberry Creek, there is a long ravine with perpendicular banks ten feet or more in height. This ravine was at that time used as a natural corral by some men who made a business of capturing these wild ponies by following them night and day, keeping them away from their watering places, and giving them no chance to graze, until they were exhausted. They were then easily driven into the ravine and roped; after which they were picketed on the prairie and soon became tame. These wild horses were swift travelers, and the most graceful of all the wild animals of the West, being distinguished for the beauty of their flowing manes and tails.
There was constant danger from Indians, and in order that we might escape as much as possible the eagle eye of some scout who might be passing through the country, our tent and wagon-sheet were of brown duck. This blended with the dry, brown buffalo grass, as we traveled from canyon to canyon, and could not be distinguished very far even by the trained eye of an Indian.
I never carried my rifle with me. I left it in camp or in the wagon, for I soon decided that I could not hunt Indians and fossils at the same time, and I was there for fossils.
I had no unpleasant experiences with Indians, however, although I came very near it once. It was one day late in June, when we were about three miles north of Monument Rocks. A gentle rain early in the morning had taken the glare from the chalk cliffs, and as this is a circumstance favorable to the discovery of fossils, I shouldered my pick and started down the canyon, eagerly scanning the rocks on either side.
About a mile below camp I was startled to come upon a pony trail, so deeply cut into the soft chalk that I knew each horse must be carrying a burden. It had been made within the hour, and as I was anxious to find out what it meant, I took the back trail to the river. There I found that a large band of warriors had sought shelter from the rain in a willow thicket, tying bunches of the twigs together and throwing deer or antelope skins over them to shed the water. They had squatted within these shelters until the storm had passed, and then cooked their breakfasts, as the live coals in many of the ash heaps testified.