just the same, however, and if we had fallen to the floor, I
presume they would have stepped over us, and otherwise been oblivious to
our existence. This was my introduction to an Indian--the noble red man!

As soon as they got to the counter they demanded powder, balls, and
percussion caps, and as these things were given them, they were stuffed
down their muzzle-loading rifles, and what could not be rammed down the
barrels was put in greasy skin bags and hidden under their blankets. I
saw one test the sharp edge of a long, wicked-looking knife, and then
it, also, disappeared under his blanket. All this time the other Indians
were on their ponies in front, watching every move that was being made
around them.

There was only the one small door to the little adobe shop, and into
this an Indian had ridden his piebald pony; its forefeet were up a step
on the sill and its head and shoulders were in the room, which made it
quite impossible for us three frightened women to run out in the street.
So we got back of a counter, and, as Mrs. Phillips expressed it, "midway
between the devil and the deep sea." There certainly could be no mistake
about the "devil" side of it!

It was an awful situation to be in, and one to terrify anybody. We were
actually prisoners--penned in with all those savages, who were evidently
in an ugly mood, with quantities of ammunition within their reach, and
only two white men to protect us. Even the few small windows had iron
bars across. They could have killed every one of us, and ridden far away
before anyone in the sleepy town found it out.

Well, when those inside had been given, or had helped themselves to,
whatever they wanted, out they all marched again, quickly and silently,
just as they had come in. They instantly mounted their ponies, and all
rode down the street and out of sight at race speed, some leaning so far
over on their little beasts that one could hardly see the Indian at all.
The pony that was ridden into the store door was without a bridle, and
was guided by a long strip of buffalo skin which was fastened around his
lower jaw by a slipknot. It is amazing to see how tractable the Indians
can make their ponies with only that one rein.

The storekeeper told us that those Indians were Utes, and were greatly
excited because they had just heard there was a small party of Cheyennes
down the river two or three miles. The Utes and Cheyennes are bitter
enemies. He said that the Utes were