Before we got the first hide off, we heard some one calling. Upon looking up we saw the women and children running toward us. We grabbed our guns and ran toward them, they still coming on. When we met them they were badly frightened, and told us that "the camp was full of Indians."
Buck said to me, "You go with the folks back of the wagon in the rough ground and I will try to find out what this means."
I said, "No, I will not; these are your own blood relations. You have the best gun and the most ammunition. You can make a better fight for them than I can. I'll go and see what this means myself."
Accordingly, I started off in the direction of camp, thinking that the women were "panicky." I could not bring myself to believe that there were war parties out at that time of the year.
I had not gone far when I met two soldiers of the Fourth United States cavalry riding rapidly up the coulée. The first thing one of them said, was: "Where are those women and children? Did you see them?"
My answer was, "Yes, boys, they are at such a place about now," pointing in the direction. One of them dismounted, saying, "Here,—you get on this horse, and go with this man and bring them to camp, for there is more danger where they are than in camp."
The other soldier and I hurried on until within about 300 yards of the broken ground, when I pulled up and said:
"Don't let's rush in there; for there is a man with them and he has a fifty-caliber Sharp's and lots of ammunition. They are comparative strangers to me; and if we lope in there one of us might get hurt before they could take us for friends. You stay where you are; I'll ride on slowly a little farther, and halloo and try and attract their attention toward me."
He replied: "All right; that is best."
I rode forward about 100 yards and hallooed, "O, Buck, Buck!"