Cautiously they emerged from their hiding-place, creeping slowly and
almost breathlessly through the tall grass of the prairie, till quite to
their surprise, they found themselves beyond the circle of the besiegers.
There were ten men, one wounded, fleeing for life, expecting every moment
to be pursued by five hundred savages. It was a long, dark, dismal
winter's night, for in that changing clime a freezing night succeeded a
sunny day. Like spectres they fled over the open prairie. That their
flight might not be encumbered they had taken nothing with them but their
guns and ammunition.

They were determined men. In whatever numbers and with whatever speed the
mounted Indians might ride down upon them, ten of their warriors would
inevitably bite the dust ere the fugitives could be taken. The Indians
fully understood this. And when the morning dawned and they saw that their
victims had escaped, instead of pursuing, they satisfied their valor in
holding a triumphant powwow over the rich booty they had gained.

It was a chill day and the wind moaned dismally over the bleak prairie.
But as far as the eye could extend no foe could be seen. Not even a tree
obscured the vision. The exhaustion of the fugitives, from their
thirty-six hours of sleeplessness and battle, and their rapid flight, was
extreme. They shot a few prairie chickens, built a small fire of dried
buffalo chips with which they cooked their frugal breakfast, and then,
lying down upon the rank grass, slept soundly for a few hours.

They then pressed on their pathless way toward the rising sun. Through
weary days and nights they toiled on, through rain and cold, sleeping
often in stormy nights drenched, upon the bare soil, without even a
blanket to cover their shivering frames. Their feet became blistered.
Passing beyond the bounds of the open prairie, they sometimes found