At this time some one advised that we should bring up the horses, but another said it would be as well to let them browse a while longer, as the grass where they were was good, and they had been for some days on short commons. “They will be safe enough,” said this speaker. “We have seen no Indian sign, or if any of you think there is danger, let some one go up to the bluff, but by all means let the poor brutes have a good meal of it.”
This proposal was accepted. Lanty was despatched to stand guard over the horses, while the rest of us remained by the fire conversing as before.
The Irishman could scarcely have had time to get among the animals, when our ears were saluted by a medley of sounds that sent the blood to our hearts, and caused us to leap simultaneously from the fire.
The yells of Indians were easily understood, even by the “greenest” of our party, and these, mingled with the neighing of horses, the prancing of hoofs, and the shouts of our guard, were the sounds that readied us.
“Injuns, by God!” cried Ike, springing up, and clutching his long rifle.
This wild exclamation was echoed by more than one, as each leaped back from the fire and ran to his gun.
In a few seconds we had cleared the brushwood that thickly covered the bottom, and climbed out on the bluff. Here we were met by the terrified guard, who was running back at the top of his speed, and bellowing at the top of his voice.
“Och, murther!” cried he, “the savage bastes—there’s a thousand ov thim! They’ve carried off the cattle—every leg—mules an’ all, by Jaysus!”
Rough as was this announcement, we soon became satisfied that it was but too true. On reaching the place where the cavallada had been picketed, we found not the semblance of a horse. Even the pins were drawn, and the lazoes taken along. Far off on the prairie we could discern dimly a dark mass of mounted men, and we could plainly hear their triumphant shouts and laughter, as they disappeared in the distance!
We never saw either them or our horses again.