en my
revolvers from the holsters and I received a blow on the head from a
tomahawk which rendered me nearly senseless. My gun, which was lying
across the saddle, was snatched from its place. Finally two Indians,
laying hold of the bridle, started off in the direction of the Arkansas
River, leading the mule, which was lashed by the other Indians who
followed along after.

The whole crowd was whooping, singing, and yelling as only Indians can.
Looking toward the opposite side of the river, I saw the people of a
big village moving along the bank, and made up my mind that the redmen
had left the Post, and were on the warpath in dead earnest.

My captors crossed the stream with me, and as we waded through the
shallow water they lashed both the mule and me. Soon they brought me
before an important-looking body of Indians, who proved to be the
chiefs and principal warriors. Among them I recognized, old Satanta and
others whom I knew. I supposed that all was over with me.

All at once Satanta asked me where I had been, and I suddenly had an
inspiration.

I said I had been after a herd of cattle or "Whoa-haws" as they called
them. The Indians had been out of meat for several weeks, and a large
herd of cattle which had been promised them had not arrived.

As soon as I said I had been after "Whoa-haws" old Satanta began
questioning me closely. When he asked where the cattle were I replied
that they were only a few miles distant and that I had been sent by
General Hazen to inform him that the herd was coming, and that they
were intended for his people. This seemed to please the old rascal. He
asked if there were any soldiers with the herd. I said there were.
Thereupon the chiefs held a consultation. Presently Satanta asked me if
the general had really said they were to have the cattle. I assured him
that he had. I followed this by a dignified inquiry as to why his young
men had treated me so roughly.

He intimated that this was only a boyish freak, for which he was very
sorry. The young men had merely wanted to test my courage. The whole
thing, he said, was a joke. The old liar was now beating me at the
lying game, but I did not care, since I was getting the best of it.

I did not let him suspect that I doubted his word. He ordered the young
men to restore my arms and reprimanded them for their conduct. He was
playing a crafty game, for he preferred to get the meat without
fighting if possible, and my story that soldiers w