bound that put them at their best pace, poor little Grote lashing his
most unmercifully, and crying every minute, "He'll catch us! He'll
catch us!"

That the Indian was on a fleet pony and was gaining upon us was very
evident, and what might have happened had we not soon reached the
sutler's store no one can tell, but we did get there just as he caught
up with us, and as we drew in our panting horses that hideous savage
rode up in front of us and circled twice around us, his pony going
like a whirlwind; and in order to keep his balance, the Indian leaned
far over on one side, his head close to the pony's neck. He said "How"
with a fiendish grin that showed how thoroughly he was enjoying our
frightened faces, and then turned his fast little beast back to the
sunflower road. Of course, as long as the road to the post was clear
we were in no very great danger, as our ponies were fast, but if that
savage could have passed us and gotten us in between him and the
Apache village, we would have lost our horses, if not our lives, for
turning off through the sunflowers would have been an impossibility.

The very next morning, I think it was, one of the government mules
wandered away, and two of the drivers went in search of it, but not
finding it in the post, one of the men suggested that they should go
to the river where the post animals are watered. It is a fork of the
Canadian River, and is just over a little sand hill, not one quarter
of a mile back of the quarters, but not in the direction of the
sunflower road. The other man, however, said he would not go--that it
was not safe--and came back to the corral, so the one who proposed
going went on alone.

Time passed and the man did not return, and finally a detail was sent