The distance was
thirty-five miles. As day was beginning to break, we--the mule and
myself--found ourselves on a hill looking down on the Pawnee Fork, on
which Fort Larned was located, only four miles away. When the sunrise
gun sounded we were within half a mile of the Post.
I was thoroughly out of patience by this time.
"Now, Mr. Mule," I said, "it is my turn," and threw my gun to my
shoulder. Like the majority of Government mules, he was not easy to
kill. He died hard, but he died.
Hearing the report of the gun, the troops came rushing out to see what
was the matter. When they heard my story they agreed that the mule had
got no more than his deserts. I took the saddle and bridle and
proceeded to the Post, where I delivered my dispatches to Captain
Parker. I then went to Dick Curtis's house at the scouts' headquarters
and put in several hours of solid sleep.
During the day General Hazen returned from Fort Harker. He had
important dispatches to send to General Sheridan. I was feeling highly
elated over my ride, and as I was breaking the scout records I
volunteered for this mission.
The general accepted my offer, though he said there was no necessity of
my killing myself. I said I had business which called me to Fort Hays,
anyway, and that it would make no difference to the other scouts if he
gave me the job, as none of them were particularly eager for the
journey.
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