by, and that, in all probability, we should every one share the fate of our murdered comrade.  What to do now was the universal inquiry.  With the butt of my rifle I scattered the fire, to prevent the Indians making a sure mark of us.  We then proceeded to pack up with the utmost despatch, intending to move into the open prairie, where, if they attacked us again, we could at least defend ourselves, notwithstanding our disparity of numbers, we being but five to sixteen.

On searching for Le Brache’s gun, it was nowhere to be found, the Indian who had killed him having doubtless carried it off.  While hastily packing our articles, I very luckily found five quivers well stocked with arrows, the bows attached, together with two Indian guns.  These well supplied our missing rifle, for I had practised so much with bow and arrow that I was considered a good shot.

When in readiness to leave, our leader inquired in which direction the river lay; his agitation had been so great that his memory had failed him.  I directed the way, and desired every man to put the animals upon their utmost speed until we were safely out of the willows, which order was complied with.  While thus running the gauntlet, the balls and arrows whizzed around us as fast as our hidden enemies could send them.  Not a man was scratched, however, though two of our horses were wounded, my horse having received an arrow in the neck, and another being wounded near the hip, both slightly.  Pursuing our course we arrived soon in the open ground, where we considered ourselves comparatively safe.

        Arriving at a small rise in the prairie, I suggested to our
        leader that this would be a good place to make a stand, for
        if the Indians followed us we had the advantage in position.

        “No,” said he, “we will proceed on to New Mexico.”

I was astonished at his answer, well knowing—­though but slightly skilled in geography—­that New Mexico must be many hundreds of miles farther south.  However, I was not captain and we proceeded.  Keeping the return track, we found ourselves, in the afternoon of the following day, about sixty miles from the scene of the murder.

The assault had been made, as we afterward learned, by three young Indians, who were ambitious to distinguish themselves in the minds of their tribe by the massacre of an American party.

We were still descending the banks of the Green River, which is the main branch of the Colorado, when, about the time mentioned above, I discovered horses in the skirt of the woods on the opposite side.  My companions pronounced them buffalo, but I was confident they were horses, because I could distinguish white ones among them.  Proceeding still farther, I discovered men with the horses, my comrades still confident I was in error.  Speedily, however, they all became satisfied of my correctness,