From now on we made a dry camp every night, always stopping in the
middle of the afternoon to let our horses graze while we did our
cooking to avoid building our fire after dark. Then we would mount
and ride until after dark and make a dry camp. This was done in
order to avoid an attack while in camp, but we made the entire
trip without seeing an Indian.
On my arrival at Fort Kearney I met my old friend Jim Bridger, who
was waiting there for a man by the name of Jim Boseman, who was on
his way with a large train of emigrants to the eastern part of
Montana, the same country that Bridger, Kit Carson, Beckwith and I
passed through in 1856 when the Indians were so bad.
Jim Bridger had met Boseman the fall before and had promised to
pilot him through to that part of Montana, for which he was to
receive five hundred dollars, it also being understood that, there
would be at least fifty men in the train and all well armed.
Bridger was just in receipt of a letter from Boseman stating that
he would be there on or about a certain date with two hundred men,
most all of whom had families.
Jim was very anxious to have me join him, offering to divide the
spoils.
I told him it would be folly for me to accompany him, as he would
be able to handle the train alone and would then have the five
hundred dollars himself, and furthermore, I did not care for work
of that kind that summer, as I would rather return to Taos and buy
a band of sheep and settle down, for I thought I had enough money,
if properly handled, to make me a good living.
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