of thieves knew how to
capture them. I had estimated the Kiowas' strength at four hundred, two
nights before, which was augmented now by a roving band of Dog
Indians--outcasts from all tribes, who knew no law of heaven or hell
that they must obey. And so we stood, shocked wide awake, with the foe
four to one, man for man against us.

Men remember details acutely in the face of danger. As I write these
words I can hear the sound of Jondo's voice that morning, clear and
strong above the awful din, for nature made him to command in moments of
peril. In a flash we were marshalled, one force to guard the corral, one
to seize and hold either bank and one to charge on the advance of the
Indians down the draw. We were on the defensive, as our captain had
planned we should be, and every man of us realized bitterly now how much
he had done for us, in spite of our distrust of his judgment.

On came the yelling horde, with rifle-rip and singing arrow. And the
sharp cry of pain and the fierce oath told where these shots had sped
home. Four to one, with every advantage of well-laid plan of action
against an unsuspecting sleeping force, the odds and gods were with
them. Dark clouds hung overhead, but the eastern sky was aflame, casting
a lurid glare across the edges of the draw as a stream of savages with
painted faces and naked bedaubed bodies poured down against the corral.
In an instant the chains and ropes holding the stock were severed, and
our mules and oxen and ponies stampeded wildly. By some adroit movement
they were herded over the low bank, and a cloud of dust hid the entire
battleground as the animals, mad with fright and goaded by arrows,
tossed against one another, stumbled blindly until they had cleared the
ridge. A shriek of savage glee and the thunder of hoofs on the hard
earth told how well the thing had been done and how furiously our
animals were being whirled away.

"Go, get 'em, Gail! Stay by 'em! Run!"

Jondo's voice sounded far away, but my work was near. With a dozen
bull-whackers I made a dash out of the draw and, circling wide, we rode
like demons to outflank the cloud of dust that hid our precious
property. On we swept, fleet and sure, in a mad burst of speed to save
our own. We were gaining now, and turning the cloud toward the river.
Another spurt, and we would have them checked, faced about, subdued. I
saw the end, and as the boys swung forward I urged them on.

"To the river. To the river. Head 'e