Sut Simpson was thoroughly impatient and angry. Knowing, as well as
he did, the dangerous character of Arizona, New Mexico, Northwestern
Texas and Indian Territory, he could not excuse such a foolhardy
proceeding as that of a small colony settling in the very heart of
that section. The nearest point where they could hope for safety was
Fort Severn, fifty miles distant. There was a company of soldiers
under command of an experienced United States officer, and they knew
well enough to keep within the protection of their stockades, except
when making reconnoissances in force.

All those who were acquainted with the veteran scout were accustomed
to defer to his judgment, where Indians were concerned, and he was so
used to receiving this deference, that when he was contradicted and
gainsayed by these new settlers, he lost his patience, and started to
leave them in a sort of mild passion.

The place fixed for the location of New Boston was in a gently sloping
valley, with the Rio Pecos running on the right. The soil was
fertile, as was shown in the abundance of rich, succulent grass which
grew about them, while, only a few hundred yards up the river, was a
grove of timber, filled in with dense undergrowth and brush--the most
favorable location possible for a band of daring red-skins, when
preparing to make a raid upon the settlement. The hunter turned the
head of his mustang in the direction of this wood, and rode away at a
slow walk. He had nearly reached the margin, when some one called to
him:

"Hist, there, ye spalpeen! Won't ye howld on a minute?"