instance, one of the war chiefs, in spurning the remuneration offered
for the return of a certain white girl, haughtily walked into the
centre of the council, where an insult could be seen by all. His act,
a disgusting one, was anticipated, as it was not the first time it had
been witnessed, when one of the Texans present drew a six-shooter and
killed the chief in the act. The hatchet of the Comanche was instantly
dug up, and had not been buried at the time we were crossing a country
claimed by him as his hunting ground.

Yet these drovers seemed to have no fear of an inferior race. We held
our course without a halt, scarcely a day passing without seeing more
or less fresh sign of Indians. After crossing the South Fork of the
Brazos, we were attacked one morning just at dawn, the favorite hour
of the Indian for a surprise. Four men were on herd with the cattle
and one near by with the remuda, our night horses all securely tied to
the wagon wheels. A feint attack was made on the commissary, but
under the leadership of Goodnight a majority of us scrambled into our
saddles and rode to the rescue of the remuda, the chief objective
of the surprise. Two of the boys from the herd had joined the horse
wrangler, and on our arrival all three were wickedly throwing lead at
the circling Indians. The remuda was running at the time, and as we
cut through between it and the savages we gave them the benefit of our
rifles and six-shooter in passing. The shots turned the saddle stock
back towards our camp and the mounted braves continued on their
course, not willing to try issues with us, although they outnumbered
us three to one. A few arrows had imbedded themselves in the ground
around camp at the first assault, but once our rifles were able to
distinguish an object clearly, the Indians kept well out of reach. The
cattle made a few surges, but once the remuda was safe, there was
an abundance of help in holding them, and they quieted down before