ing. The shots turned the saddle stock
back towards our camp and the mounted braves continued on their
course, not willing to try issues with us, although they outnumbered
us three to one. A few arrows had imbedded themselves in the ground
around camp at the first assault, but once our rifles were able to
distinguish an object clearly, the Indians kept well out of reach. The
cattle made a few surges, but once the remuda was safe, there was
an abundance of help in holding them, and they quieted down before
sunrise. The Comanches had no use for cattle, except to kill and
torture them, as they preferred the flesh of the buffalo, and once
our saddle stock and the contents of the wagon were denied them, they
faded into the dips of the plain.

The journey was resumed without the delay of an hour. Our first brush
with the noble red man served a good purpose, as we were doubly
vigilant thereafter whenever there was cause to expect an attack.
There was an abundance of water, as we followed up the South Fork and
its tributaries, passing through Buffalo Gap, which was afterward a
well-known landmark on the Texas and Montana cattle trail. Passing
over the divide between the waters of the Brazos and Concho, we struck
the old Butterfield stage route, running by way of Fort Concho to
El Paso, Texas, on the Rio Grande. This stage road was the original
Staked Plain, surveyed and located by General John Pope in 1846. The
route was originally marked by stakes, until it became a thoroughfare,
from which the whole of northwest Texas afterward took its name. There
was a ninety-six mile dry drive between the headwaters of the Concho
and Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos, and before attempting it we
rested a few days. Here Indians made a second attack on us, and
although as futile as the first, one of the horse wranglers received
an arrow in the shoulder. In attempting to remove it the shaft
separated from the steel arrowhead, leaving the latter imbedded in the
lad's shoulder. We were then one hundred and twelve miles distant from
Fort Concho, the nearest point where medical relief might be expected.
The drovers were alarmed for the man's welfare; it was impossible to
hold the herd longer, so the young fellow volunteered to make the ride
alone. He was given the best horse in the remuda, and with the falling
of darkness started for Fort Concho. I had the pleasure of meeting him
afterward, as happy as he was hale and hearty.

The start across th