me. The bullet threw fire and ashes all over me,
and I jumped about ten feet, which suited them better. They circled
around for several minutes, every one uncovering a carbine, and they
must have fired a hundred and fifty shots into the fire. In fact they
almost shot it out, scattering the fire around so that it came near
burning up the bedding of our outfit. I was scared thoroughly by this
time. If it was possible for me to have had fits, I'd have had one sure.
The air seemed full of coals of fire and ashes. I got good practical
insight into what hell's like. I was rustling the rolls of bedding out
of the circle of fire, expecting every moment would be my last. It's a
wonder I wasn't killed. Were they throwing lead? Well, I should remark!
You see the ground was not frozen around the fire, and the bullets
buried themselves in the soft soil.

"After they had had as much fun as they wanted, the leader gave a
yell and they all circled the other way once, and struck back into the
timber. Some of them had brought up the decoy Indian's horse when they
made the dash at first, and he suddenly turned as wild as a Cheyenne
generally gets. When the others were several hundred yards away, he
turned his horse, rode back some little distance, and attracted my
attention by holding out the Winchester. From his horse he laid it
carefully down on the ground, whirled his pony, and rode like a scared
wolf after the others. I could hear their yells for miles, as they made
for their encampment over on the North Fork. As soon as I got the fire
under control, I went out and got the carbine. It was empty; the Indian
had used its magazine in the general hilarity. That may be an Indian's
style of fun, but I failed to see where there was any in it for me."

The cook threw a handful of oily fish-bones on the fire, causing it to
flame up for a brief moment. With the exception of Wayne Outcault, who
was lying prone on the ground, the men were smoking and sitting Indian
fashion around the fire. After rolling awhile uneasily, Outcault sat up
and remarked, "I feel about half sick. Eat too much? Don't you think it.
Why, I only ate seven or eight of those fish, and that oughtn't to hurt
a baby. There was only half a dozen hard-boiled eggs to the man, and I
don't remember of any of you being so generous as to share yours with
me. Those few plates of prunes that I ate for dessert wouldn't hurt
nobody--they're medicine to some folks. Unroll our bed, pardner,