far as I was concerned. I had just been through that
part of the country and had narrowly escaped death many times, and for
us to carry out this scheme, I knew would be impossible, for the
tricky redskins would be certain to capture us. I cannot recollect the
exact reply that I made him, but am positive I requested him to go to
Hades by the shortest possible route. We parted in anger after three
long years of friendship. The old major's love for the almighty dollar
was the cause. I never did have a very strong desire to furnish
material to the cruel savages for one of their home scalp dances, and
besides my mind was made up to leave Colorado, which I did.

I afterwards made the acquaintance of a young fellow, a college
graduate who had been unable to secure a position to his liking and
was anxious to return to the States. After a few days of good
fellowship, and finding him of the right material, I made my plans
known to him. He at once fell in with them, and a week later we
embarked on our perilous journey. We started at full moon drifting
with a comparatively strong current using paddles to guide our roughly
constructed craft. We made nightly rides of about fifty miles, and at
dawn would land on one of the small islands of the river, conceal
ourselves and the boat in the tall grass from which we were able to
see all that passed by trail and bluffs, and not be seen ourselves.
Our greatest danger was in being discovered by the Indians on the high
bluffs, or a visit from them to the island we occupied. The first
scare we had was when a party of a dozen or more rode to the bank of
the river for the purpose, as we supposed, of crossing. They seemed,
however, undecided as to their course, but finally urged their ponies
down the bank and into the river. To describe our feelings would be
impossible. Just then, to us, a minute seemed an hour. Cold beads of
perspiration stood out on both, not exactly from fear, but a sort of
yearning to be elsewhere; and I wondered, after all that I had passed
through, if I was to be cut down on my homeward journey by those
fiendish red devils. "Saved!" whispered my friend, "they are leaving
the river." And sure enough those little prairie ponies were climbing
the bank on a dead run for the bluffs.

[Illustration: HOME RIDE DOWN THE PLATTE RIVER]

The last night of that eventful ride lasted long until after the sun
was up. The large Concord coach filled with passengers passed close
to the ri