ing and pawing around the corral, for they was
desperate hungry and thirsty, hadn't had nothing since the night before;
yet we couldn't help them any, as we didn't know whether we was shet of
the Ingins or not. We staid, patient-like, for two or three hours more
after dark to see what the Ingins was going to do, as while we sot round
our little fire of buffalo-chips, smoking our pipes, we could still hear
the red devils a howling and chanting, while they picked up their dead
laying along the river-bottom.

"As soon as morning broke--we'd ketched a nap now and then during the
night--we got ready for another charge of the Ingins, their favourite
time being just 'bout daylight; but there warn't hide or hair of an
Ingin in sight. They'd sneaked off in the darkness long before the
first streak of dawn; had enough of fighting, I expect. As soon as we
discovered they'd all cleared out, we told the drivers to hitch up, and
while they was yoking and watering, me 'n' Curtis and Comstock buried
the dead Mexican on the bank of the river, as we didn't want to leave
his bones to be picked by the coyotes, which was already setting on the
sand hills watching and waiting for us to break camp. By the time we'd
finished our job, and piled some rocks on his grave, so as the varmints
couldn't dig him up, the train was strung out on the Trail, and then we
rolled out mighty lively for oxen; for the critters was hungry, and we
had to travel three or four miles the other side of the Walnut, where
the grass was green, before they could feed. The oxen seen it on the
hills and they lit out almost at a trot. It was 'bout sun-up when we got
there, when we turned the animals loose, corralled, and had breakfast.

"After we'd had our smoke, all we had to do was to put in the time until
five o'clock; for we couldn't move before then, as it would be too hot
by the time the oxen got filled. Paul and me went down to the creek
fishing; there was tremendous cat in the Walnut them days, and by noon
we'd ketched five big beauties, which we took to camp and cooked for
dinner. After I'd had my smoke, Paul and me went back to the creek,
where we stretched ourselves under a good-sized box-elder tree--there
wasn't no shade nowhere else--and took a sleep, while Comstock and
Curtis went jack-rabbit hunting across the river, as we was getting
scarce of meat.

"Thorpe, who was hit in the arm with an arrow, couldn't do much but
nuss his wound; so him and the Mexicans