In a few minutes, to my great delight, I saw men on foot and on
horseback hurrying to the rescue. The Indians quickly turned and
galloped away as fast as they had come. When I reached my friends, I
turned Brigham over to them. He was led away and given the care and
rub-down that he richly deserved.
Captain Nolan of the Tenth Cavalry now came up with forty men, and on
hearing my account of what had happened determined to pursue the
Indians. I was given a cavalry horse for a remount and we were off.
Our horses were all fresh and excellent stock. We soon began shortening
the distance between ourselves and the fugitives. Before they had fled
five miles we overtook them and killed eight of their number. The
others succeeded in making their escape. Upon coming to the place where
I had dropped the spotted horse that carried the leader of my pursuers
I found that my bullet had struck him in the forehead, killing him
instantly. He was a fine animal, and should have been engaged in better
business.
On our return we found old Brigham grazing contentedly. He looked up
inquiring, as if to ask if we had punished the redskins who pursued us.
I think he read the answer in my eyes.
Another adventure which deserves a place in these reminiscences
occurred near the Saline River. My companion at the time was Scotty,
the butcher who accompanied me on my hunts, to cut up the meat and load
it on the wagon for hauling to the railroad camp.
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