The wind was blowing hard that night out of the southwest, from the Rockies as John Henry and I rode as fast as our horses could take us, trying to reach the border and into Montana before the Mounties could gain any ground on us.
We had just delivered a hundred head of wild horses from the high plains of Colorado to Calgary in the Alberta Province. It was a long hard ride that took us six and a half weeks, but the delivery was the highest paying job that Henry and I've had in months. We were doing local drives in and around Colorado for the past year or so, hearding horses from Colorado to New Mexico and Long Horns from Texas to Kansas, or where ever the mighty dollar would take us.
Henry { I called him Henry, he called me 'asshole'}and I met back in the East on a cold day in 1849 when I was hired to take a Wagon Train west to Missouri and then unite with another heading to Wyoming. He came out of upper New york State and I from Massachusettes. I was leading the Wagon Train and Henry guarded the rear. The trip was slow going with ten wagons & three supply wagons pulled by Mules, with ten extra horses in tow.
By the time we reached the Missouri River , we had eight wagons, two supply wagons and nine extra horses...the tenth one broke it's leg, so we had to shoot it, but the supper that night was the most food we ate since we started.
We met up with our new riders just a day past the river , and were glad to hand over the reigns to them so they could finish the treck. Henry and I rode into Kansa City and put up in the best Hotel in town, treated ourselves to a hot bath a cold beer and a couple of fine women.
