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everything was gone except the wagon and myself. The cattle stampeded, horses got loose, and oxen and all went with the herd. The storm soon spent its fury and our men managed to hold the cattle until daylight and got them all back the next morning and we resumed our drive to Abilene, reaching there in a few days. Abilene at this time was just a small town on a railroad, consisting of three saloons, one store and two hotels. Here we tarried to graze and fatten our cattle for market, and as several of the hands were not needed, they were paid off and allowed to return home, I being among the number.
While we were in Abilene, we found the town was full of all sorts of desperate characters, and I remember one day one of these bad men rode his horse into a saloon, pulled his gun on the bartender, and all quit business. When he came out several others began to shoot up the town. I was not feeling well, so I went over to the hotel to rest, and in a short time the boys of our outfit missed me and instituted a search, finding me at the hotel under a bed.
The next day we made preparations to start back to Texas, and went on the train to Junction City, Kansas, to get our outfit. It was the first train I ever rode on, and I thought the thing was running too fast, but a brakeman told me it was behind time and was trying to make up the schedule. We secured our outfit, took in several men wanting to come to Texas, elected a boss and started for home. The second night out we camped in a little grove of timber and during the night a storm struck us, another one of those Kansas zephyrs that was calculated to blow hell off the range. I located a stump and anchored myself to it, while the boss, a long-legged fellow, had secured a death grip on a sapling near me. During the progress of the storm his feet were constantly in my way, flying around and striking my shins and knocking the bark off the stump I was hanging to for dear life. I could hear him trying to pray, but I was so busy