Right here I drew the line.
Ed backed me up, and we announced our ultimatum. Indians we would be, and lassoless we would go, but to ask us to refrain from carrying revolvers was demanding too much. We stuck out for revolvers, and intimated that a refusal would cause us to withdraw from all operations that afternoon.
So the concession was made.
Even then we knew that the adventure could end in only one fashion. We should be chased, hunted down, shot, lassoed, scalped, and finally burned at the stake, during an imposing war-dance; for these cowboys were fully enamored of Indian methods of warfare when turned against the Indians themselves.
We were to belong to a dangerous tribe, recently discovered by Peter Bailey, and called Sigh-ux. We agreed to start on our barbaric career from the stable. From there to the street corner we should have full license to pillage and destroy. In order to give the avenging cowboys due provocation, we were to commit certain outrages on the way. These might include burning down the Universalist Church on the corner and ringing the door-bell at Miss Whipple's private school.
Once we had turned into Oak Street, where I lived, we would have to look to our safety. The cowboys would be on our track.
So off we went.
In a few moments, ignited by shots from our revolvers, the Universalist Church was wrapped in flames. We rang Miss Whipple's door-bell, and, as an additional atrocity, threatened her cat with tomahawks. Then we turned up Oak Street, and knew in a moment, by the yells that arose, that the cowboys had burst out of their encampment and were after us.
I suppose Ed shared my feelings of despair as we ran up the street. The youngest cowboy was two years older than either of us; they were all swifter runners, and they outnumbered us by three. In a few moments it would all be over. Our brief season of bloodshed and destruction was past, and it now only remained for us to be slaughtered at the cowboys' will.