"
So for twelve miles I rode with Sherman, and we became fast friends. He
asked me all manner of questions on the way, and I found that he knew
my father well, and remembered his tragic death in Salt Creek Valley.
He asked what had become of the rest of the family and all about my
career. By the end of the ride I had told him my life history.
As we were riding along together, with the outfit following on, I
noticed pony tracks from time to time, and knew that we were nearing
the Springs. Presently I said:
"General, we are going to find Indians at the Springs when we reach
there."
"How do you know?"
"We have been riding where ponies have been grazing for the last mile."
"I haven't seen any tracks," said the General in surprise. "Show me
one."
I jumped off my horse, and, thrusting the buffalo grass aside, I
pointed out many tracks of barefooted ponies. "When we rise that
ridge," I told him, "we shall see the village, and thousands of ponies
and Indian lodges."
In a very few minutes this prophecy came true. Curtis and the other
scouts with the officers rode up quickly behind us, and we all had a
fine view of this wonderful sight of the desert--a great Indian camp.
As we stood gazing at the spectacle we observed great excitement in the
village. Warriors by the dozens were leaping on their horses and riding
toward us, till at least a thousand of them were in the "receiving
line.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95