I knew if I could get the river between me and the Indians I would have
a good three-quarters of a mile start of them and could make a run for
Fort Larned. But as I reached the river bank I looked about and saw ten
or fifteen Indians who had begun to suspect that all was not as it
should be.
The moment my mule secured a good foothold on the bank I urged him into
a gentle lope toward the place where, according to my story, the cattle
were to be brought.
Upon reaching the top of the ridge and riding down the other side out
of view, I turned my mount and headed westward for Fort Larned. I let
him out for all he was worth, and when I reached a little rise and
looked back the Indian village lay in plain sight.
My pursuers were by this time on the ridge I had passed over, and were
looking for me in every direction. Soon they discovered me, and
discovered also that I was running away. They struck out in swift
pursuit. In a few minutes it became painfully evident that they were
gaining.
When I crossed Pawnee Fork, two miles from the Post, two or three of
them were but a quarter of a mile behind. As I gained the opposite side
of the creek I was overjoyed to see some soldiers in a Government wagon
a short distance away. I yelled at the top of my lungs that the Indians
were after me.
When Denver Jim, an old scout, who was with the party, was informed
that there were ten or fifteen Indians in the pursuit he said:
"Let's lay for them.
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