rth! For some moments, we all stood, as if petrified by surprise.

"Shure-shat!" continued the voice, "won't yez help me out? I'm too wake
to get up the bank."

"Petrick, as I'm a livin' sinner! Good Lordy, Petrick! wheer air ye?
'Tain't possyble yeer alive?"

"Och, an' shure I'm aloive, that same. But I'm more than half did, for
all that; an' nearly drownded to boot. Arrah, boys! rache me a hand,
an' pull me out--for I can't move meself--one of my legs is broke."

We all three rushed down to the water--whence the voice appeared to
come. Under the drooping willows, where the current had undermined the
bank, we perceived an object in motion. A fearful object it was to look
upon: it was the encrimsoned skull of our scalped comrade! His body was
submerged below the surface. His head alone was visible--a horrid
sight! The three of us leaped at once into the stream; and, raising the
poor fellow in our arms, lifted him out on the bank. It was as he had
alleged. One of his legs was broken below the knee; and other frightful
wounds appeared in different parts of his body. No wonder the Indians
had believed him dead, when they stripped off that terrible trophy!

Notwithstanding the ill usage he had received, there was still hope.
His wounds, though ugly to the eye, were none of them mortal. With
care, he might recover; and, taking him up as tenderly as possible, we
conveyed him back to the butte. The Arapahoes had left their
_impedimenta_ behind them--blankets and robes at discretion. With
these, a soft couch was prepared under the shade of the waggon body, and
the wounded man placed upon it. Such rude dressing, as we were able to
give, was at once administered to his wounds; and we found new joy in
the anticipation of his recovery. His disappearance--from the spot
where he had been left for dead--was explained. He had "played
'possum," as he himself expressed it. Though roughly handled, and
actually senseless for a time, he had still clung to life. He knew that
the Indians believed him dead--else why should they have scalped him?
With a faint hope of being left upon the field, he had lain still,
without stirring hand or foot; and the savages, otherwise occupied, had
not noticed him after taking his scalp. By some accident, his hands had
got over his face; and, perceiving that these screened his countenance
from observation, he had permitted them to remain so. With half-opened
eyes, he could see betwee