e capture of four deserters."

"I don't reckon that captain had any scruples about taking his share
of the prize money, did he?" inquired Gotch.

"No, I never knew anything like that to happen since I've been in the
service."

"There used to be a captain in one of the upper country companies that
held religious services in his company, and the boys claimed that
he was equally good on a prayer, a fight, or holding aces in a poker
game," said Gotch, as he filled his pipe.

Amongst Dad's other accomplishments was his unfailing readiness to
tell of his experiences in the service. So after he had looked over
the camp in general, he joined the group of lounging smokers and told
us of an Indian fight in which he had participated.

"I can't imagine how this comes to be called Comanche Ford," said Dad.
"Now the Comanches crossed over into the Panhandle country annually
for the purpose of killing buffalo. For diversion and pastime,
they were always willing to add horse-stealing and the murdering of
settlers as a variation. They used to come over in big bands to
hunt, and when ready to go back to their reservation in the Indian
Territory, they would send the squaws on ahead, while the bucks would
split into small bands and steal all the good horses in sight.

"Our old company was ordered out on the border once, when the
Comanches were known to be south of Red River killing buffalo. This
meant that on their return it would be advisable to look out for your
horses or they would be missing. In order to cover as much territory
as possible, the company was cut in three detachments. Our squad had
twenty men in it under a lieutenant. We were patrolling a country
known as the Tallow Cache Hills, glades and black-jack cross timbers
alternating. All kinds of rumors of Indian depredations were reaching
us almost daily, yet so far we had failed to locate or see an Indian.

"One day at noon we packed up and were going to move our camp farther
west, when a scout, who had gone on ahead, rushed back with the news
that he had sighted a band of Indians with quite a herd of horses
pushing north. We led our pack mules, and keeping the shelter of the
timber started to cut them off in their course. When we first sighted
them, they were just crossing a glade, and the last buck had just left
the timber. He had in his mouth an arrow shaft, which he was turning
between his teeth to remove the sap. All had guns. The first warning
the Indians receive