Down the ravine we went with the Apaches in hot pursuit of us.  I yelled out to the boys to turn to the left across the ridge and when we were over the turn we stopped and gave them a volley, and picked off the leaders as they came in sight.  I saw a number of them fall, but it did not appear to check them in the least.  They were coming too thick and we wheeled and were off again with some of them within at least thirty yards of us, but we gained on them gradually.  Finally George Jones sang out:  “I am shot through the arm.”  I reined my horse up by his side and asked if his arm was broken.  He said it was, and I could see it was hanging down and the blood almost streaming off his fingers.  I asked if he felt sick, and he said he did not.

Of course all the time this conversation was going on we were putting our horses down to their utmost.  George said; “I am all right if I don’t get another shot,” so I told him to take the lead and not to spare his horse.  I also told the other boys to fall back to the rear so we could protect him, as he was badly wounded and the Indians were holding their own pretty well.

On looking ahead I saw another little ridge and I told the boys that when we were over that to all turn and give them two shots each, and for each to be sure to get his Indian.  This order was carried into effect and they were so near us that I think each shot did its work.  This brought them to a halt and they did not crowd us any more; it was soon dark and we escaped without any further mishap.

After we could hear no more of them we rode to the top of a ridge where we would have a chance to protect ourselves in case of another attack, and dismounted to ascertain the extent of George’s wound, and as the excitement died down he commenced feeling sick at his stomach.  I gave him a drink of whiskey from a bottle that I had carried in my canteen at all seasons, and this was the second time the cork had been drawn from the flask.  When we got his coat off and examined his wound we found that the arm was broken just below the elbow.  Using our handkerchiefs for bandages, we dressed the hurt as best we could, corded his arm to stop the flow of blood and then pulled out for headquarters, arriving there just at daybreak.

I took George to the surgeon, who set the bone and dressed the arm up “ship shape,” after which he gave him something to make him sleep.

After seeing George in bed I at once repaired to the Lieutenant’s quarters and found him just arising.  He asked me if I was too tired to make another chase, and I told him I would be ready as soon as I could eat my breakfast.  He said in one hour’s time he would have two companies of cavalry ready to start.

After breakfast I changed horses, and taking four other scouts, started out to pilot the cavalry to where we could take the trail of the Indians.  On this trip each scout took four days’ rations, and about one o’clock that afternoon we struck a plain trail that we followed at a lively gait until nearly dark; the scout force riding from one to two miles ahead so in case we should get in sight of the reds we could telegraph back to the command, or should the Indians attempt to give us another chase we might be able to run them up against the soldiers, where they would find amusement for a while.