But she did describe the violinist as a "bow-legged, left-handed, red-headed and freckle-faced fiddler, who played with the violin standing on its head."

If one recognizes anyone from this description, perhaps one best be as circumspect as was Mrs. Stickney, and mention no name, for though now a grizzled veteran of the prairies, the described can clip the ears of a coyote at a distance of one hundred yards with his old forty-five, or a much greater distance with his new forty-thirty.

Ed. Stemler, in his long years on the prairies, has had his little fights and his one great battle. In 1888, I "met up" with him at a roundup dance, and although intimately acquainted, I have never heard him relate of his adventures, nor whisper of the great battle of Sixty-six mountain.

Only recently did this story come to me, in the quiet undertone of an old plainsman, who sat in my office and related it, in the subdued tone of conversation that comes of long hours alone, when one talks much to one's self, for the companionship of a human voice, or in speaking soothingly to cattle when night riding about a herd -- 'so not to startle them -- for wild cattle always seem ready to stampede. I had heard of it before, but had never heard the story in its entirety until the side partner of "Shanghai" Pierce, dropped a few words that put me on the trail.

It was after the Union Pacific was builded, and the old Overland trails were falling into disuse, that Ed. Stemler came into the west, and the summit of Sixty-six mountain knew his homesick .grief and loneliness. Likewise the summits of Wild Cat mountain, of Big Horn and Bear mountains, and the High Divide of Flowerfield, or the Lone Pine eminence near the head of Lawrence fork.