"The returns are not all in yet," replied Bill, "but I think we got seven or eight. I got three of them for my share. That was all I could catch before they got into the timber; and, of course, when they got to the brush I had to give up the chase and let them go."
"It's most too good a thing to hope that old Satank'll be found among the killed," said Tom.
"No, I'm afraid we'll not find him among them," replied Bill regretfully, "for I reckon his luck has saved him again, unless he may be among them that were killed out near the wagon. If I can get time I'll ride around over the prairie and take a good look at all of them, and the old rascal may be found among them; but I'll be surprised if he is, for he has wonderful luck in getting out of tight places."
"Don't you think, Bill," I asked, "that this was rather a badly managed expedition of old Satank's, considering that he has the reputation of being such a successful raider?"
"Yes, he's made a bad mess of it this time, sure, and a few more such failures'll cause his followers to choose another leader. I think he's losing his grip on the war-path, and we'll soon see Satanta or Big Tree coming to the front as leader of the hostile Kiowas. When what's left of these fellows get back to their big village and count noses, there'll be such a howl against old Satank that I don't believe he'll ever be able to get much of a following again. You mark what I tell you, Satanta or Big Tree is going to be the war chief of the Kiowas hereafter."
We found Captain Saunders and his men about two miles above our camp, dismounted in the edge of the timber near the old Indian camp, anxiously awaiting our arrival. Saunders himself had his head roughly bandaged with an old handkerchief because of a glancing arrow wound above his right ear, which had bled profusely over his face and clothes but was not serious. His horse had received a bullet in the shoulder which lamed him badly.
Supposing from Saunders' appearance that he was badly hurt, Tom was going to him to dress his wounds when the captain said:
"Never mind me, Mr. Vance; I'm not hurt much; but if you can help poor Dolan there, lying behind that tree, do what you can for him. He is badly hurt—spitting blood and growing weaker—" talking as he led the way to where the wounded man lay. "An arrow went through his breast and lodged in the neck of a horse a couple of rods behind him. I had no idea they could shoot those arrows so viciously."
On examining Dolan's wound, Tom's experience told him that the man was past any help that he could render, for the arrow had gone through the lung, and an inward hemorrhage seemed to be slowly sapping his life. Dressing the wound and giving the man a stimulant, Tom and the captain consulted together for a moment and then informed the patient that, though his case was quite serious, it was not altogether hopeless and that his only chance was to be hurried back to Fort Larned, where the post surgeon could give him proper attention.
The other man who had been reported wounded had a broken arm. Tom splinted and bandaged it, and the two were soon made comparatively comfortable among the buffalo robes in the wagon. Several others had received slight wounds but were "able for duty."