I did not help as I was willing to do without meat rather than help after being on guard about all night. When I got up, I went over to the other camp to see what was the matter and why they would not help to kill the beef. They had all gone to look after the stock except John and Tom Brooks. Tom, the cook, did not have to help with the other work. I asked, "John, why did not you fellows get up this morning and help uncle?"
He looked at me, wrinkled up his face, swore and said as hateful as he could, "You will be a good deal prettier than you are, before I will help kill a beef."
"Johnny," I replied, "If you don't propose to do your part, you might get a dose you would not like so well."
I thought I would go back to my camp and say nothing more about it. I started off and had gone about a rod, when John said, "Now you go off to your own camp, or I will put Tom at you."
I turned around and looked at him and remarked, "You low lived insignificant scoundrel, you will put Tom at me?"
"Yes, and if you don't go to your own home, I will get at you," Tom cut in.
"You big necked, nigerfied, curly-headed villian, you will get at me?" I replied.
At that he came running toward me and as he came near, he ducked his head to butt me in the stomach. When I saw that, I ran backwards a little to kill the shock and I reached down and caught him in the cheek, gave him a jerk, and he fell on his back. He fell near the hind wheel of a wagon. He pulled himself up by holding to the wheel and I got him by the throat and pushed him back between the wheel and the bed, and beat his face and head like he did poor Jim Greek and gave him some for Nailor and some for abusing aunt, and some for jumping on to me. When I got through, he had a plenty and the great fighter was badly whipped and he had not given me a scratch.
This was the first fight I had ever had and I found out afterwards that he had told the boys, that if any of his mess helped kill the beef, they would have had him to whip first. Aunt saw the commotion and called for me to come to their camp fire and get my breakfast. She said, "I am going to give you the best breakfast you ever had on the plains, for whipping that low lived, good for nothing, Tom Brooks."
I ate breakfast with aunt—was the best meal on the plains and the only time I had eaten with her. Tom Brooks behaved after that.