soon as the call for grub was heard the next morning, all rushed
simultaneously for a cup, and Mr. Bushwhacker got left again. Without
ceremony he proceeded to make good his threat, the second cook being
his victim.

TROUBLE EN ROUTE

For his trouble he received a stinging blow over his good eye, and was
sent sprawling in the alkali dust. Not being in the least dismayed, he
rushed for another and received a similar salute on the jaw, doubling
him up and bringing him to the earth. By this time both messes joined
in forming a ring and called for fair play. Mr. Perry tried hard to
stop it, but was finally convinced that it was better, policy to let
them have it out. How many times the fellow was knocked down, I do not
remember, but the last round finished him. We carried him to the shady
side of his wagon, covered him with a blanket and resumed our meal. On
going into corral, we always took our revolvers off and placed them
where they could easily be reached. We had been eating but a short
time, when the report of a gun rang out and each man fairly flew for
his weapons. Indians seldom made an attack except at early morning,
when the oxen were being yoked or when we were going into corral at
night. To the surprise of everyone Mr. Bushwhacker had taken another
lease of life and with a revolver in each hand was firing at anyone
his disturbed brain suggested. He was quick of action, firing and
reloading with rapidity, and soon had the entire camp playing hide and
seek between, around and under the wagons to keep out of the range of
his guns, which we succeeded in doing, for not a man was hit. Finally,
two of the drivers succeeded in getting behind him and overpowered
him. His brother bushwhackers were in for lynching him on the spot,
but wiser council prevailed, and his disposal was left to Mr. Perry
who sentenced him to be escorted back three miles from the corral and
left to walk the remaining two miles to Fort Carney alone. He covered
less than a mile when he was captured by the Indians. I was obliged
then to drive his team. A few evenings later my chum and friend were
lounging by the side of my wagon smoking, and otherwise passing the
time away, when finally the conversation turned to the departed driver
who by that time had undoubtedly been disposed of by the Indians--not
a very pleasant thought--but we consoled ourselves with the fact that
no one was to blame but himself. My chum inquired the contents of my
prairie