After they had heard our story, one of them said.  “Well, boys, I’m a goin’ back to Missouri.  What are the balance of you goin’ to do?”

They talked the matter over for some time and finally all concluded that old Missouri was a pretty good country and they would all start back in the morning.

One of the crowd said:  “What will we do with our provisions?  We can’t haul it back for our cattle are so tender footed now that they can hardly travel.”  Another said:  “What we do not want ourselves we will give to those hand-cart men over there.”  But another one in the crowd who perhaps was more like the dog in the manger that could not eat the hay himself nor would not let the cows eat it, spoke up and said:  “No, we will not do any such thing!  What we do not want to take along to eat on our way back we will throw in the creek.”

The next morning after they had eaten breakfast two of them got up into the wagon and selected what provisions they wanted to take along with them, after which they threw the remainder out on the ground and the other two carried it and threw it into the creek.  It consisted of flour, dried fruit, bacon, sugar, and I noticed one ten gallon keg of molasses.

I was told that this was an everyday occurrence.  As we had seen the elephant and had about all the mining we wanted, for awhile, at least, we saddled up our horses and started for Taos, by the way of Bent’s Fort.

Three days’ ride took us to Bent’s Fort, and we had a thousand and one questions to answer, for this was the first news they had got from the mines around Pike’s Peak.

CHAPTER XXI.

A fight with the Sioux.—­Hasa, the Mexican boy, killed.—­Mixed up with emigrants some more.—­Four new graves.—­Successful trading with the Kiowas.

While at Fort Bent we bargained again to go and trade with the Kiowas, on the same terms that we were employed upon the preceding winter, and we could commence at any time we pleased.

We then started for Taos, and when we got there found Uncle Kit suffering very much with his last arrow wound.  The doctor had told him that it had never healed inside and that it might be the death of him.

We remained at Taos until time to go to the fort, doing nothing in particular, but hunting a little and occasionally attending a fandango.  During this time, however, unbeknown to us and the people at the fort, the Comanches and Sioux had been fighting among themselves, having been so bold as to come on to the Arkansas river and murder a number of white people.  Had we known this we should not have made the attempt to go over that country.  Or had Bent and Roubidoux known it they would not have asked us to go.  But, somehow, it seemed always my luck not to see trouble until I was right in it.