Next day he went to the fort, returning on the following evening, with a lot of Indian-dressed buffalo calfskins for his overcoat, and reported that he had engaged an unused room of Weisselbaum wherein to store our baled skins.
Tom soon had a very serviceable overcoat made from the calfskins—far better than the coyote coats Jack and I had made us—lining it with a red blanket and covering the collar and cuffs with muskrat skins, which have a beautiful fur, somewhat similar to the beaver in color but not so heavy.
As yet we had had but one light fall of snow—nothing like a storm—and it had soon passed off, the weather continuing fair but quite cold of nights and mornings.
One day, as we were about to sit down to dinner, my attention was arrested by a whoop or two that had a familiar sound, and, on looking out on the trail toward the fort, I saw a mounted man coming at a gallop. Found, too, seemed to think he had heard that whoop before, for he ran up onto the dirt roof of our dugout, looked and listened a moment at the approaching horseman, and when the shout was repeated he hesitated no longer but with a wild yelp of recognition dashed away to meet the newcomer.
I had just time to call to my comrades in the dugout: "See here, men, I believe it's Wild Bill," when, as they came rushing out, I noticed the mounted man halt suddenly and roll off his horse as the dog met him, and in a moment more Found and his master were rolling over the ground hugging each other in mad delight, while Bill's horse stood looking on in apparent astonishment at their wild antics.
As Bill came walking up to camp, leading his horse, with Found prancing and yelping about him, I thought I had never seen a dog so nearly crazy with delight. No doubt, Found had often thought of his absent master and had wondered what had become of him and whether he would ever see him again; and now they were reunited, and both seemed overjoyed at the meeting.
After hearty greetings and handshakes all around the scout tied his horse to a wheel of the wagon while we all retired to the dugout, where our dinners were in danger of getting cold, and were soon seated around the mess box, eating and talking, for we all had a great deal to say to Bill, and he to us. Found had huddled down beside his master and was not neglected.
"I hope you've come to stay several days with us, Bill," said Tom.
"No, boys," replied the scout; "I'll stay with you to-night, but I've got to get back to the fort to-morrow. You see, the regulars are going away before long, and the troops that's coming to take their places are volunteers and, of course, green as grass about frontier service and managing Injuns; an' so me an' French Dave an' a few other ol' hands have got to get out an' scout around and find out where the Injuns are at an' try to find out how they're feelin' toward the whites, an' so forth. That's what I was sent out here ahead of the volunteers for. But when I get back to the fort I'll be close enough to come over an' take a square meal with you every now and then."
Leaving Bill and Tom to talk while the old man cleared up the dishes, Jack and I went out to attend to the stock; and the Irishman suggested that while I took our two broncos out of the stable and staked them on the lee side of the haystack he would unsaddle the scout's horse and put him in the stable. When Bill came out and found what he had done he remonstrated.