Reed Anthony, Cowman An Autobiography

As we continued up the South Fork and its tributaries, passing through Buffalo Gap, which would later become a well-known monument on the Texas and Montana cattle path, there was no shortage of water. Indians attacked us again at Buffalo Gap, and while it was just as fruitless as the first, one of the horse wranglers was wounded by an arrow to the shoulder. Fort Concho, the closest location where medical assistance may be anticipated, was a hundred and twelve miles away from us at that time. There was a chance that a few heads may have gotten away from the Clear Fork range and found their way back to their old stomping grounds, but these would be identifiable by a tally mark that set them apart from those that weren't retrieved for the spring delivery. We endured the slaughter of cattle in isolated and inhospitable locations while the better-class Indians helped to stop the atrocities. Outlets pay the greatest and those sent to market second. The few that did survive were pathetic creatures without ears or tails, and their horns, both root, and base, had been frozen until they drooped in strange directions. The winter of 1885–1886 was the milder of the two, especially in comparison to the previous one.