There was no cultivation whatever in and around Kearney. It was too desolate and arid. A little garden was in use, down a distance from the post, surrounded with some barriers made of post and brush. The refuse of the stable had been spaded under, a shallow well dug, and soldiers from time to time on fatigue duty had been put to work in those gardens. But the result was very feeble, and outside of that nothing was raised. I remember during the few days that we were at Fort Kearney there came up a violent wind-storm which carried the sand and gravel freely, and the next morning I was up at Dobytown, and saw them shoveling away from the doors the accumulated drifts. In some places the sand and gravel had piled up against the doors fully a foot high. Out on the tableland the sand was on the surface, except that in the swales there was grass. I was told that Fort Kearney marked the western line of the rights of the Pawnee Indians; that they were forbidden by either military order or treaty from going any farther west than the line of Fort Kearney. There was also said to be a buffer territory, and that the western Indians were not allowed to come east within forty miles of Fort Kearney; so that there ran a strip north and south of forty miles wide upon which no Indians by right could go. But it was only a talking point. As a matter of fact, the Indians went where they pleased. The travel from the west at this time was very great, and the trains were full of armed men, and they all reported that rumors of Indian trouble were prevailing all through the west towards Denver.
Around Fort Kearney at that time was a large number of splendid greyhounds. Major Wood, of our regiment, to whom I have heretofore referred, was directed to take command of Fort Kearney. He did so, and acted as post commander until further orders. The greyhounds around the post seemed to be sort of common property, and Major Wood gave Captain O'Brien one, and me one – two of the most beautiful animals of the kind I ever saw, and to which the Captain and I became very much attached. The origin of these greyhounds was as follows, which I give as it was told to me: sometime back in the '50s an English nobleman by the name of Lord George Gore came to this country for the purpose of hunting big game. As one person described it to me, Lord George Gore came with forty horses, forty servants, forty guns, forty dogs and forty of everything else. He stopped at Fort Kearney and hunted, and several litters of those greyhounds, and some of the original bunch, were left at the post, and became sort of public property, subject to the direction of the post commander.
The moment of our arrival at the post we had all our horses re-shod, and were told we would be sent to build a fort at Cottonwood Canyon, one hundred miles farther west. We drew from the post quartermaster axes, saws, augers, chisels, bar iron for horseshoes, anvils and bellows, and all the necessary paraphernalia to start housekeeping out in the wild country. And I had the commissary take the barrel of whisky which he had promised, fill it from another barrel, and box it up as hardware. It was loaded in the wagon with our other stuff, so that when we moved we started with eight large Government wagons piled high with rations, supplies, corn, ammunition, and tools for the creation of a frontier post.
On October 7th Major Wood, the post commander, desired to bid us adieu by having a buffalo-hunt. Large quantities of buffaloes were over in the hills south of the post. So, at noon, Captain O'Brien and I and the Major, with a scout, went out to look for the buffalo, but were charged to be careful, because Indians from the west might be following the buffalo, and they might take advantage of the situation and get us before we got back. But we never saw any Indians. We went out with nothing but Colt's revolvers, calibre.44, and we had a very exciting afternoon. The buffalo had a strange way of moving across the country. The bulls would be together in large flocks off on one of the wings of the moving herd. They were the most exciting game. They were savage, and often put up a good fight. Our horses were much scared, and it was with great difficulty we could get anywhere near the buffalo. During the afternoon, while we killed several buffaloes, it is a fact that the buffaloes chased us as much as we did them. Captain O'Brien had a very ornamental "McClellan cap," as it was called, an officer's cap embroidered with a gold corps badge, and cross-sabers, and on the inside of it in the top was a piece of red patent leather. The Captain picked out the biggest buffalo of the bull herd as they were going, and managed to get near enough to hit the buffalo, and slightly wound it, not seriously. The buffalo started after the Captain, and his horse became frantic. In the jolting that ensued the Captain's cap fell off, and the red top showing up attracted the eye of the buffalo. He got down on his front elbows and bored his horn right through the top of that cap and pranced off with it on his left horn. The Captain was unable with his revolver to bring him down. We cut out the tongues of the buffaloes we killed, and brought them back after sunset. Swarms of wolves were seen in every direction, hanging on the flanks of the buffalo herd.
All arrangements having been made to start west, we bade adieu to the officers of the various companies after supper, and went to our tents, which were pitched near the Fort, ready to start early in the morning. In a little while an officer came out to us, and told us they wanted to have some ceremonies before we started, as we would not meet again soon, and we went with him to the quartermaster's office and a jollification began. Among those present was an officer of a Missouri regiment. I do not now remember his regiment, but he was a First Lieutenant. He had been sent with dispatches through to Colorado, and was on his way back. This officer along during the evening suggested a game of poker; to use his language, "ten cents ante and one dollar limit"; and he said, "I'll be banker." Soon a party of six were engaged with this Missouri officer, who acted as banker; he issued the grains of coffee which were used upon the occasion. About one o'clock the party broke up, and lo and behold the banker had had bad luck and was unable to redeem the chips. He had gone broke, and more too – he owed everyone around the board. Being unable to pay out he was asked why he had suggested a game like this when he bad no money to go into it, and he said that he was going back to St. Louis and he thought he could make enough to pay his expenses. Thereupon Captain O'Brien took out his pocket-knife and cut one of the buttons off of the officer's coat. "I will take this in full of what you owe me."
The buttons on the officer's coat, although he was in the United States service, were not United States buttons, but were gilt buttons of the State of Missouri. The arms of the State were on them; they were such as had been used by the officers of the National Guard of the State. But State pride of this officer had caused him to use these buttons on his United States uniform. In about two minutes the officer had very few buttons on his uniform. Each one of us took a large one from the front row, and gave a verbal receipt in full. We never heard of him afterwards. I sent the button home by mail for preservation, and owing to its ridiculous history have preserved it ever since and still have it.