them that first
day at the settlement. The gang opened fire, killed several of their
number, and routed the rest.

The Indians made no protest. All they knew of law was the power of the
government, a force not to be appealed to for protection, but rather one
against which the red men must struggle for their rights. They had no
recourse, therefore, against the thieves. And it was not until the
National Guard was sent to round them up that this lawless band was
tracked to its lair and captured.

On the Land of the Burnt Thigh that summer the grass was dry, and
nowhere was there water with which to fight fire. Heat waves like vapor
came up from the hard, dry earth. One could see them white-hot as they
rose from the parched ground like thin smoke. From the heat expansion
and the sudden contraction when the cool of the night came on, the earth
cracked open in great crevices like wide, thirsty mouths, into which
horses stumbled and fell beneath their riders.

A young couple went to town one day and returned that night, looking for
their home. They wandered around their claim, seeking their shack. It
lay in ashes, destroyed by a prairie fire.

Heine came wading through the hot yellow grass. "Did you carry matches
with you, Heine?"

"Nope," he answered laconically. "I don't need no matches."

"Suppose a prairie fire should come?" Everyone was supposed to carry
matches; no child was allowed to leave home without matches and
instructions to back-fire if he saw a fire coming. Heine sat down and
wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his little shirt.

"I look first behind when I start. Can't no prairie fire come till I get
here."

"But with these hot winds--"

We watched constantly for the first sign of smoke. Sacks, old heavy
comforts and pieces of carpet were kept at hand as fire extinguishers,
in case there were enough water on hand to wet them--which was seldom.

There were no more water holes, and it got dryer and hotter. Ben Smith's
men were still drilling for water. They were down 1500 feet. From the
print shop we could hear the drill grinding through hard earth.

Prairie fires began to break out all around the Strip. The homesteaders
began to be afraid to leave their shacks for fear they would find them
gone on their return. Ammunition for the fight was pitifully meager.
They fought with plows that turned firebreaks, back-fired to stop the
progress of the fire, beat it out with their wet sacks.

I