The species I discovered were collected on the north side of the river, three miles below Cow Island, after the Professor had taken the last boat down the river. When we uncovered these bones we found them very brittle, as they had been shattered by the uplift of the strata in which they were buried; and we were obliged to devise some means of holding them in place. The only thing we had in camp that could be made into a paste was rice, which we had brought along for food. We boiled quantities of it until it became thick, then, dipping into it flour bags and pieces of cotton cloth and burlap, we used them to strengthen the bones and hold them together. This was the beginning of a long line of experiments, which culminated in the recently adopted method of taking up large fossils by bandaging them with strips of cloth dipped in plaster of Paris, like the bandages in which a modern surgeon encases a broken limb.
I feel it a great privilege to have been one of the original discoverers of these great horned dinosaurs, whose skeletons are now among the chief glories of our museums.
One day, about the fifteenth of October, Professor Cope, who had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the last steamboat, concluded to ride out on the open prairie to some bad lands which we had seen on our journey down from Dog Creek. I accompanied him. On the way he fell into one of his frequent absent-minded moods, picturing the land as it must have been at the time of the dinosaurs, when the shale of these black-sided canyons was mud on an ocean floor. So fascinated were we both by his descriptions that the time flew by unheeded, and it was afternoon before we reached the prairie south of Cow Island.
Upon arriving at the bit of bad lands, we separated, agreeing to meet at four o’clock at the place where we left the horses. I kept the appointment, but the Professor was nowhere to be seen, and as hour after hour passed with no sign of him, I began to grow anxious. I knew the foolishness of trying to find him in that network of gorges and ridges, and could only wait, eagerly watching the outlets of the labyrinth.
Just as the sun was sinking behind the Rockies he came out of a narrow ravine with the head of a large mountain sheep on his back. He gave it to me to carry behind my saddle, and with few words we mounted and set off at full speed for home, remembering the three men whom we had met on the prairie at noon, who had been lost for three days in the intricate passages of the Bad Lands. I did not like to think of trying to find the way there after night.
The Professor dashed over the prairie without once drawing rein, clearing bunches of cactus ten feet, sometimes, in diameter, at a single bound; and I followed suit. So, by a series of leaps, we crossed the ten-mile stretch and drew up at the head of a gorge, from which we could see Cow Island.
Cope eagerly scanned the lights of the little station, and finally decided that a new set had been added to those of the soldiers’ tents. He was sure that the long-expected steamer lay at her snubbing-post, and declared emphatically that we must reach Cow Island that night.
I knew the uselessness of trying to combat his iron will, but I pleaded with him against the folly of attempting to thread in the darkness those black and treacherous defiles, where a single misstep meant certain death. I begged him to wait until daylight. We were, to be sure, hungry and thirsty, and food, water, and shelter were to be had only at the river, but sleeping in our saddle blankets without supper was, I urged, preferable to running the risk of being dashed to pieces.
He paid no attention to what I said, but dismounting, led his horse into the canyon. He had to cut a stick to shove in front of him, as his eyes could not penetrate the darkness a single inch ahead. I cut another to punch along his horse, which did not want to follow him.