Some days I would go without any fire at all, and eat raw frozen meat and melt snow in my mouth for water.

I could never resist the call of the trail.

I had the best buffalo horse that ever made a track.

But the West of the old times, with its strong characters, its stern battles and its tremendous stretches of loneliness, can never be blotted from my mind.

The cholera had broken out at the post, and five or six men were dying daily.

As a good horse is not very apt to jump over a bank, if left to guide himself, I let mine pick his own way.

The Indians kept increasing in numbers until it was estimated that we were fighting from 800 to 1,000 of them.