ould be
disputed by Indians.

Nor had we long to wait. Near the juncture of Elm Creek with the main
Clear Fork we were again attacked at the usual hour in the morning.
The camp was the best available, and yet not a good one for defense,
as the ground was broken by shallow draws and dry washes. There were
about one hundred yards of clear space on three sides of the camp,
while on the exposed side, and thirty yards distant, was a slight
depression of several feet. Fortunately we had a moment's warning, by
several horses snorting and pawing the ground, which caused Goodnight
to quietly awake the men sleeping near him, who in turn were arousing
the others, when a flight of arrows buried themselves in the ground
around us and the war-whoop of the Comanche sounded. Ever cautious,
we had studied the situation on encamping, and had tied our horses,
cavalry fashion, to a heavy rope stretched from the protected side of
the wagon to a high stake driven for the purpose. With the attack the
majority of the men flung themselves into their saddles and started to
the rescue of the remuda, while three others and myself, detailed in
anticipation, ran for the ravine and dropped into it about forty yards
above the wagon. We could easily hear the exultations of the redskins
just below us in the shallow gorge, and an enfilade fire was poured
into them at short range. Two guns were cutting the grass from
underneath the wagon, and, knowing the Indians had crept up the
depression on foot, we began a rapid fire from our carbines and
six-shooters, which created the impression of a dozen rifles on their
flank, and they took to their heels in a headlong rout.

Once the firing ceased, we hailed our men under the wagon and returned
to it. Three men were with the commissary, one of whom was a mere boy,
who was wounded in the head from an arrow during the first moment of
the attack, and was then raving piteously from his sufferings. The
darky cook, who was one of the defenders of the wagon, was consoling
the boy, so with a parting word of encouragement we swung into our
saddles and rode in the direction of dim firing up the creek. The
cattle were out of hearing, but the random shooting directed our
course, and halting several times, we were finally piloted to the
scene of activity. Our hail was met by a shout of welcome, and the
next moment we dashed in among our own and reported the repulse of the
Indians from the wagon. The remuda was dashing about