re were charges again; guns grew hot, the smoke thickened,
the Indians were everywhere around, determined to force the doors and
windows. The hearts and hands of the twenty-five able-bodied men never
faltered.

On the evening of the third day the siege was lifted; for with the
fourth morning no Indians were to be seen. All about, on the grassy
plain between the town and the hills, dead ponies were scattered; the
walls of the buildings were furrowed by bullets; rude loopholes gaped;
and in the little street the dust was dyed red.

The two Shadley brothers had been killed, in their wagon; William
Tyler, a camp hand, had been killed before he reached shelter. But the
twenty-five others, and the brave woman, had stood off the flower of
the allied Comanche, Kiowa, Arapaho, Apache and Southern Cheyenne
nations.

How many Indians had been killed nobody knew. Nine were found among
the buildings and within one hundred yards; four more were discovered,
at longer range; in the hills the signs showed that the loss had been
at least thirty or thirty-five.

Early in the morning, while Adobe Walls was busy looking about, a lone
buffalo-hunter ambled in. He was George Bellman, a German whose camp
lay only eight miles up the Canadian; here he lived alone--he had not
heard the shooting nor seen a single Indian, and the ponies strewn over
the prairie much astonished him.

"Vat kind a disease iss der matter mit de hosses, hey?" he asked,
curiously.

"Died of lead poison," answered Cranky McCabe.

The heads of twelve of the Indians were cut off and stuck up on the
pickets and posts of the corral; were left there, to dry in the sun,
for a hideous warning. But the buffalo-hunters decided to hunt no
more, this season. The Pan-handle country was getting "unhealthy!"

So much had Chief Quana and his brother chiefs and warriors achieved.
They had spoiled the buffalo hunting. After a short time many of the
Arapahos and Kiowas and Apaches hurried back to their reservation in
Indian Territory. The Cheyennes and others raided north, through
western Kansas and eastern Colorado. The Chief Quana Comanches went
south, to their own range. He and his Kwahadis or Antelope Eaters
stayed out on their Staked Plain for two years; they were the last to
quit. Then he accepted peace; he saw that it was no use to fight
longer. Moreover, he became one of the best, most civilized Indians in
all the West.

For his Comanches he chose lands at t