After obtaining their daily meat, they would clean, cook, and eat it. Once they’d filled their bellies, they would take turns sleeping and keeping watch until sunset. Ditch filled his daylight hours, when not resting, caring for the horses. Pritchard spent his time while awake cleaning the two Remington revolvers and the Hawken rifle. Once darkness fell, they would once again mount up, point their horses south, and ride on.

Pritchard preferred the Remington revolvers over the Colts. The Remingtons were sturdier and felt more solid in his hand. But the main reason he preferred the Remingtons were the safety notches milled between the charging holes. These meant he could load with six shots and not merely five. He also liked how quickly the Remington could be reloaded. With a spare charged cylinder, he could have an empty Remington reloaded in a few seconds.

When not cleaning the revolvers, Pritchard practiced drawing from his belt and dry-firing them. He repeated this routine for over an hour each day. He would wedge one of Ditch’s gold coins into a tree at head level and pace off ten steps. Then he would repeatedly draw, cock, and fire. Even though the guns were empty, he always ensured the front sight split the coin before squeezing the trigger. He worked both of his large, muscular hands equally, until there was no difference in the speed and dexterity with which he could draw and fire with either.

“Don’t you ever get tired of pretending to shoot those guns?” Ditch asked once, after their meal, as Pritchard conducted his daily practice regimen.

“No more than I get tired of living,” Pritchard said, without taking his eyes off the coin.

It was at a trading post near Oden, halfway to their destination, that Ditch and Pritchard met their first trouble since escaping the Confederate camp. They spotted a large cabin on the Ouachita River, with a slat corral and hog wallow behind it, bearing a sign that read TRADING POST & GENERAL STORE. They found the building by following the scent of smoked pork and observed the store from hiding for the better part of a day before deciding to approach.

Both Pritchard and Ditch’s only clothes were becoming threadbare, and neither had shaved in almost three weeks. There were a few items, such as a razor, new clothes, salt, medicinal whiskey, another knife, powder, and other necessities they thought they might try to obtain, as well as grain for the horses. They had money, hadn’t seen soldiers from either army in two days, and convinced themselves patronizing the store was worth the risk.

Pritchard checked his revolvers, ensuring they were both charged with six balls each. He also made certain they were tucked loosely in his belt under his unbuttoned coat. Ditch readied the Hawken and patted his knife. They tied Rusty and Snake to the hitching post, next to two horses and a mule, and went inside.