As soon as I said I had been after “Whoa-haws” old Satanta began questioning me closely.  When he asked where the cattle were I replied that they were only a few miles distant and that I had been sent by General Hazen to inform him that the herd was coming, and that they were intended for his people.  This seemed to please the old rascal.  He asked if there were any soldiers with the herd.  I said there were.  Thereupon the chiefs held a consultation.  Presently Satanta asked me if the general had really said they were to have the cattle.  I assured him that he had.  I followed this by a dignified inquiry as to why his young men had treated me so roughly.

He intimated that this was only a boyish freak, for which he was very sorry.  The young men had merely wanted to test my courage.  The whole thing, he said, was a joke.  The old liar was now beating me at the lying game, but I did not care, since I was getting the best of it.

I did not let him suspect that I doubted his word.  He ordered the young men to restore my arms and reprimanded them for their conduct.  He was playing a crafty game, for he preferred to get the meat without fighting if possible, and my story that soldiers were coming had given him food for reflection.  After another council the old man asked me if I would go and bring the cattle down.  “Of course,” I told him.  “Such are my instructions from General Hazen.”

In response to an inquiry if I wanted any of his young men to accompany me I said that it would be best to go alone.  Wheeling my mule around, I was soon across the river, leaving the chief firmly believing that I was really going for the cattle, which existed only in my imagination.

I knew if I could get the river between me and the Indians I would have a good three-quarters of a mile start of them and could make a run for Fort Larned.  But as I reached the river bank I looked about and saw ten or fifteen Indians who had begun to suspect that all was not as it should be.

The moment my mule secured a good foothold on the bank I urged him into a gentle lope toward the place where, according to my story, the cattle were to be brought.

Upon reaching the top of the ridge and riding down the other side out of view, I turned my mount and headed westward for Fort Larned.  I let him out for all he was worth, and when I reached a little rise and looked back the Indian village lay in plain sight.

My pursuers were by this time on the ridge I had passed over, and were looking for me in every direction.  Soon they discovered me, and discovered also that I was running away.  They struck out in swift pursuit.  In a few minutes it became painfully evident that they were gaining.

When I crossed Pawnee Fork, two miles from the Post, two or three of them were but a quarter of a mile behind.  As I gained the opposite side of the creek I was overjoyed to see some soldiers in a Government wagon a short distance away.  I yelled at the top of my lungs that the Indians were after me.