“Trying to kill that blamed kid,” I said.
“Well, you have nearly done it this time,” she said. “How did it happen?”
I told her all about it.
“It will cause another camp fight,” she said.
I turned loose the colt I was riding and started after my pinto pony.
“Where are you going?” she asked me.
“After my horse.”
“What for?”
“Because I want him.”
When I had caught and saddled my pony I saw the boy and his father and mother with some more Indians coming towards our tent. I jumped on my horse and started off. Mother called to me to stop, but I kept on going. I thought that if they wanted to fight they could fight; I was going to get out of it as fast as my pinto could carry me, so I went up the river and hid in the brush. After dark I heard the Indians calling “Yagaki, Yagaki,” but I would not answer them.