“To jump on my hoss, an’ cut the lasso with which he war picketed1, warn’t the work of a minit, an’ then, clubbin’ my rifle, I laid about me right an’ left, an’ my hoss, knowin’ as well as I did what war the matter, carried me safely out o’ the camp.
“As I rode out on to the prairy, the Injuns started up on all sides o’ me, but my hoss soon carried me out o’ their reach. As soon as I thought I war safe, I hauled up to load my rifle, an’ wait for ole Bill. I felt a leetle oneasy about him, ’cause, if the Comanches should onct get a good sight at him, they would be sartin to know who he war, an’ wouldn’t spare no pains to ketch him; an’ if they succeeded, he couldn’t expect nothin’ but the stake.
“Wal, arter I had loaded up my rifle, an’ scraped some bullets, I started back toward the camp, to see if I could find any thing o’ Bill; an’ jest at that minit I heered a yell that made my blood run cold. By the glare o’ the camp-fires, which the Comanches had started agin, I seed the cause of the yell, for there war ole Bill on foot, an’ makin’ tracks for the gully, with a dozen yellin’ varlets clost at his heels. In course I couldn’t help the old man any; an’, besides, I knowed that they would take him alive at any risk, an’ that, if I kept out o’ the scrape, I might have a chance to save him. Wal, jest at the edge o’ the gully he war ketched, an’ arter a hard tussle—for the ole man warn’t one of them kind that gives up without a fight—he war bound hand an’ foot, an’ carried back to the camp.
“In course the news spread among the Comanches like lightnin’, an’ it had the effect o’ stoppin’ the slaughterin’ that war goin’ on, for the Injuns all wanted to have a look at the man who had sent so many o’ their best warriors3 to the happy huntin’-grounds.
“Finally, some o’ the varlets yelled out my name—the rest took it up, an’ clouds of the warriors went scourin’ through the camp an’ over the prairy to find me; ’cause they knowed that whenever the ole man war to be found, I warn’t a great way off. It begun to get mighty4 onhealthy for me in them diggins, so I turned my hoss, an’ made tracks acrost the prairy. I rid some, now, I reckon, an’, in a short time, war out o’ hearin’ o’ the yells o’ the savages5.
“As soon as I thought I war safe, I camped down on the prairy, an’, with my hoss for a sentinel, slept soundly until mornin’. I then started for the camp, or, rather, the place where the camp had been, for when I got there, I found nothin’ but its ruins. The Injuns had burned every thing they did not want or could not carry away, an’ made off with their prisoners. Their trail war plain enough, an’ I to onct commenced follerin’ it up, determined6 that I would either save ole Bill or die with him; an’, on the fourth day, durin’ which time I had lived on some parched7 corn I happened to have in the pockets o’ my huntin’-shirt, an’ war in constant danger of being ketched by stragglers, I seed the Injuns enter their camp. In course there war a big rejoicin’ over the prisoners an’ plunder8 they had brought in, an’ it war kept up until long arter dark.
“The camp, which numbered ’bout fifty lodges9, war pitched in a small prairy, surrounded on three sides by the woods. The nearest I could get to it without bein’ diskivered war half a mile; an’ here I tied my hoss in the edge o’ the woods, an’ lay down to sleep.
“’Arly the next mornin’ I war aroused by a yellin’ and the noise o’ drums, an’ found the hull10 camp in motion. Near the middle o’ the village war a small clear spot, where the prisoners war stationed. They war not bound, but a single glance at a dozen armed warriors, who stood at a little distance, showed that escape warn’t a thing to be thought of. All except two o’ the prisoners sot on the ground, with their heads on their hands, as if they wished to shut out all sights an’ sounds o’ what war going on around ’em. The two who were standin’ seemed to take matters more easy. They stood leanin’ against a post with their arms folded, an’ watched the motions o’ the Injuns as though they war used to sich sights. One o’ these I picked out as ole Bill, but, in course, I couldn’t tell sartin which one war him, it war so far off.
“A little way from the prisoners were the principal chiefs o’ the tribe, holdin’ a palaver11 regardin’ what should be done, an’ a little further off stood the rest o’ the tribe—men, women, an’ children—waitin’ the word to begin their horrid12 work.
“It war nigh noon afore the council broke up; then one o’ the chiefs commenced shoutin’ some orders, an’ one o’ the prisoners was led out o’ the camp by two Injuns, while the rest o’ the varlets set up a yell, an’ armin’ themselves with whatever they could lay their hands on, commenced formin’ themselves in two lines; the prisoner, whoever he was, must run the gauntlet. While the savages war fixin’ themselves, the white chap stood between the Injuns who had led him out, watchin’ what war goin’ on, an’ I could easy tell what he war thinkin’ of, ’cause I had been in sich scrapes myself. I knowed that, as he looked through them long lines o’ screechin’ Injuns, an’ seed the tomahawks, clubs, knives, an’ whips, all ready to give him a cut as he passed, he thought of every thing he had done durin’ his life. But he warn’t given much time for thinkin’, for, purty quick, the chief set up a yell to let the prisoner know that the time had come. The chap didn’t hesitate a minit, but jumped from the place where he war standin’, like a streak
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