Uncle Kit was now in the lead and I was bringing up the rear.  Just as we were out of the water and he was removing the saddle from his horse, he got two arrows through his buckskin hunting shirt, and was very slightly hurt.

We managed to stand them off until he removed the saddle from the dying horse to another, after which we pulled for open ground, all escaping unhurt, excepting the slight scratch Uncle Kit received from the arrow.

The redskins did not follow us away from the creek.

As soon as we were on open ground we stopped and built a fire and dried our clothing, for we were as wet as drowned rats.  To build a fire we had to pull small sagebrush that grew here and there in the open prairie in that country.  While we were drying our clothing and eating a lunch, we had our horses feeding near us, but did not dare let them scatter for fear of an attack, which we were liable to experience at any moment.  After we had our clothing pretty well dried out and having had a little something in the way of refreshments, on looking off to the northeast about two miles distant, we saw a big band of buffalo and a lot of Indians after them.

We concluded that we had remained here long enough, so we mounted and pulled out again.

The balance of the day we kept on open ground, and saw numerous little bands of Indians, but were not molested by them until late in the afternoon.

About sundown, while traveling down a little narrow valley, all of a sudden about fifteen Indians, all well mounted, made a charge on us.  We corralled at once.  By this time our horses had learned to corral pretty quick, and when they were in gunshot we opened fire on them.  I fired at one with my rifle and got him, for I saw him fall to the ground, and I got another with my pistol.  I do not know how many were killed, but they went away a much less number than they came.  We all escaped unhurt, but Uncle Kit lost another horse, making in all four horses that day.

We moved on again and traveled about five miles and made another camp, but did not build a fire.  Our horses were picketed near camp, and that night we stood guard the same as the night before, but I did not see any Indians crawling up on all fours.  The morning following we were off very early, and traveled some four miles before we came to water.  Coming to a nice little brook, we stopped and took our breakfast.  Here we had a chance to have killed an antelope, but did not dare shoot.

After taking something for the inner man, we proceeded on our way.  We did not have any more trouble with Indians, not even seeing any until we got to what is known as Stinking Water or Alder creek, near where Virginia City, Mont., now stands.  In traveling down this stream, which is quite crooked, and just as we were rounding one of those points of the hill running down to the creek, riding in the lead I saw two Indian wick-i-ups about half a mile ahead, just in the edge of the brush.  I at once gave the signal to turn back, and we got out of sight without being discovered by the Indians.