"But footin' it nights, and layin' by days, fur over a hundred miles, through Injun country, is slow work, and we didn't, most on us, expect much; and our hearts follered the little black spots, showin' us our two companions a creepin' off into darkness, like a couple of wolves. It took good men, too, from our little party, and fur awhile I was faint-hearted. In our shipwreck, it seemed like takin' bottles which might ha' helped to hold out, and flingin' 'em into ther waves, with messages tellin' how and whar we went down.
"About two o'clock Lieut. Beecher died, havin' for some time begged the men to end his sufferin's by shootin' of him.
"We all kept perfect quiet that night—no fire, nor wur ther a sound heard, from our little island, by the heathen on the bluffs. An just that quietness gave 'em the worst foolin' they ever had. It seems the road down river had been left open by 'em, hopin' we would steal out and run for it durin' the night. We bein' all on foot, they could overtake us in the mornin', and worry on us out easy. Durin' the dark we waited quiet, and watched, and passed water to our wounded, and sprinkled it over some of 'em who couldn't drink.
"It wer just kinder palin' like way up in the sky, and we could see that off down East, somewhar, ther mornin' was commencin' ter climb, when Jim nudged me, and says, 'Chum, what's that?' We both stuck our ears right up, like two jackass-rabbits, and listened. It wur all dark near the ground, but we could hear a steady, gallopin' sound, comin' in toward us from up the ravines, and over the hills. It wur like a beatin' of ther earth with flails by threshers you couldn't see.
"The sound came a creepin' along the sod so quick we soon knew it wur the Injuns, on ther ponies, comin' down ter pick up the trail. And now we could see 'em a bobbin' along toward us in ther gloom, the rows er ugly heads goin' up and down, like jumpin'-jacks. It just seemed as ther side er ther night had been painted all full o' gapin' red devils, and ther sun wur jest revealin' on 'em. 'Lay still!' wer the word, and each man hugged his sand bank, just a skinnin' one eye, like a lizard over a log. They 'd no idee we were thar, not bein' able to understand the grit of that little forty, and they cum gallopin' along, careless-like, happy as so many ghosts goin' ter a fun'ral. But it warn't our fun'ral just then. When they 'd got so close we could smell 'em, colonel guv the word ter fire, and we let 'em have it. Stranger, you ain't no idee what a gettin' up bluffs, and general absentin' of 'emselves ther wur. Arter the fust crack, yer couldn't see an Injun at all, but jest a lot er ponies, diggin' it on ther back track, and you knowed painted cusses wer glued ter ther opposite side on 'em.
"We had fightin' until night ag'in, but no men were killed arter the fust day. The savages were cautious-like, and took long range fur it. We now commenced cuttin' off the hind quarters of our dead hosses, and boilin' small pieces in a empty pickle-jar belongin' ter ther colonel. Burke, he 'd dug a shallow well, too, which gave us plenty of water. Hoss meat isn't relishin' at fust. One kin eat it, but, as ther feller said about crow, he don't hanker arter it. Ther gases had got all through ther carcasses, and we had ter sprinkle lots o' gunpowder inter the pot, to kill the taste.
"The fust hoss cut up was my old sorrel. He didn't go well while livin', and couldn't be expected to when dead. Instead of takin' a straight course, and givin' some satisfaction, he jumped across all the turns inside o' me, and brought up bump agin my hide, as if he wer comin' through. He had that same trick o' cuttin' corners when livin', and I perceded ter give him up as a uncontrollable piece of hoss flesh.
"When night come on agin, Pliley and Whitney attempted ter get through ther Injun lines and make fur Wallace, but were driven back. Fur ther next few days we kept eatin' hoss flesh, and fightin' occasionally. The third night Pliley and Donovan succeeded in gettin' away.
"On the fourth day, Doctor Moore died. After the fifth, no Injuns was visible, and we gathered prickly pears and eat 'em, boilin' some down inter syrup. Our mouths were all full of ther little needles, and it wer mighty hard keepin' a stiff upper lip. We were eatin' away on our forty-eight horses, and watchin' and hopin'. We couldn't move, and leave our wounded, or the Injuns would be on 'em right off. The poor fellows had no surgeon, and were sufferin' terrible as 't was.
"Ther mornin' of ther ninth day broke with a cry of 'Injuns!' Now, human natur' can't stand fitin' allers. To carry out my shipwreck idee, fellers on a raft kin cling an' swaller water fur awhile, but they can't fight a hull grist o' hurricanes. Hoss meat an' prickly pears ain't jest ther thing, either, to slap grit inter a man. Ther were a big crowd comin', sure enough, way off on ther hills. We were kinder beginnin' ter despond, when a familiar sort o' motion on the fur dark line spelt in air the word, 'Friend!' It wer the advanced guard o' relief, approachin' on ther jump. Why, boy"—and the old scout seized hold of Semi, and shook him in excitement—"talk of Lucknow and ther camels a comin', they warn't nowhar. The blessed old blue cloth! If yer want ter love a color, jest get saved by it once. When I get holed in ther earth, I 'll take back ter dust on a blue blanket, an' if I get married afore, gal an' I'll wear blue, an' the preacher'll hev ter swar a blue streak in jinin' us!"