poor circumstances, and I
determined to follow the plains for a livelihood for them and myself. I
had no difficulty in obtaining work under my old employers, and in May,
1857, I started for Salt Lake City with a herd of beef cattle, in charge
of Frank and Bill McCarthy, for General Albert Sidney Johnson's army,
which was then being sent across the plains to fight the Mormons.

Nothing occurred to interrupt our journey until we reached Plum Creek, on
the South Platte river, thirty-five miles west of Old Fort Kearney. We
had made a morning drive and had camped for dinner. The wagon-masters and
a majority of the men had gone to sleep under the mess wagons; the cattle
were being guarded by three men, and the cook was preparing dinner. No
one had any idea that Indians were anywhere near us. The first warning we
had that they were infesting that part of the country was the firing of
shots and the whoops and yells from a party of them, who, catching us
napping, gave us a most unwelcome surprise. All the men jumped to their
feet and seized their guns. They saw with astonishment the cattle running
in every direction, they having been stampeded by the Indians, who had
shot and killed the three men who were on day-herd duty, and the red
devils were now charging down upon the rest of us.

I then thought of mother's fears of my falling into the hands of the
Indians, and I had about made up my mind that such was to be my fate; but
when I saw how coolly and determinedly the McCarthy brothers were
conducting themselves and giving orders to the little band, I became
convinced that we would "stand the Indians off," as the saying is. Our
men were all well armed with Colt's revolvers and Mississippi yagers,
which last, carried a bullet, and two buckshots.

The McCarthy boys, at the proper moment, gave orders to fire upon the
advancing enemy. The volley checked them, although they returned the
compliment, and shot one of our party through the leg. Frank McCarthy
then sang out, "Boys, make a break for the slough yonder, and we can then
have the bank for a breast-work."

[Illustration: KILLING MY FIRST INDIAN.]

We made a run for the slough which was only a short distance off,
and succeeded in safely reaching it, bringing with us the wounded
man. The bank proved to be a very effective breast-work, affording
us good protection. We had been there but a short time when Frank
McCarthy, seeing that the longer we were corraled the worse it wou