A large red blanket covered his left shoulder, fastened beneath his right
arm in such a manner as to leave the arm free and unobstructed, and then
hung loosely behind him, almost touching the ground as he sat upon his
horse. The animal was a rough looking little pony, that bore evidence of
being both tough and fleet.

The fellow's face was deeply marked by the small-pox, and hideously
painted with vermilion and ochre; while, from his ears, were suspended,
heavy rings of brass wire. These, with the paint, gave him a most
diabolical expression, that was in no manner relieved by the shaggy locks
of unkempt black hair that hung around his head.

His only weapon was a long, murderous-looking, iron-headed spear, which,
with his lariat, he held in his right hand.

We made several efforts to find out what the fellow's object in hailing
us was, before he condescended to give it. Then he said that he had that
mornin met with a party of Comanches, who had with them two prisoners,--
mere boys. He was angry that braves should capture such children, for
only squaws, not warriors, made prisoners of boys.

After much talk, he had made the Indians ashamed of the act, and they
were willing to release the captives for a small ransom. He was a friend,
and begged us to remember, was acting as an embassador, in search of the
party to which the children belonged.

"The cussed, lyin' old heathen," exclaimed Jerry. "I wonder does he
'spose I'm green enuff to swaller that story o' his'n. It's true enuff
though, that they've got the youngsters, and it's likely we kin git 'em
agin, though I've always telled you, boys hain't no bizness on the