from the creek, with which to make a barricade in case of attack, and, Nelson taking first watch, I lay down to sleep, without fire or supper, except a piece of raw pork.

At nine o’clock I arose to watch, and soon after midnight, the moon coming up bright and clear, I awoke Nelson, and suggested to him we should saddle up and cross over to Cedar Creek, for I had a strong presentiment that some misfortune would befall us if we remained longer where we were.  It is not a little singular, but true, that man has a wonderful instinct, and can nearly always divine coming trouble or danger.  This instinct in the frontiersman, of course, is wonderfully developed by the perilous life he leads; but, call it presentiment or what you will, this instinct exists in every beast of the field, as well as in the human breast, and he who follows it can have no safer guide.  Several times have I saved my life by obeying the dictates of that silent monitor within, which told me to go, and yet gave me no reason for my going.

We had not ridden far when we came upon a heavy Indian trail, and found it not more than four or five hours old.  The tracks showed some fifty ponies, and all going in the direction of the Republican.  We were now convinced that Rolla had escaped and the Indians were pursuing him.  Following on the trail for some distance, until we came to a bare spot on the bluff where our horses would leave no tracks in the snow, we turned to the left, and, whipping up the ponies, struck out for a forced march.  We knew the Indians might return at any moment, and if they should find our trail they would follow us like blood-hounds.

All night long we pushed on, halting only at sunrise to eat a bite and give our poor ponies a few mouthfuls of grass.  Again we were off, and throughout the day whipped and spurred along our animals as rapidly as possible.  At night we halted for two hours to rest, and then mounted the saddle once more.  On the fifth day we met a company of cavalry that had been sent out by Colonel Brown to look for us, and with them we returned to camp.

We learned from the cavalrymen that Sergeant Hiles had been attacked by the Indians, and Sergeant Rolla had been killed.  Hiles, though he had lost his horse, had managed to work his way back to camp on foot, where he had arrived the morning they left camp, nearly starved.  We had gone much out of our way to escape the Indians who had followed Hiles; but since we had avoided them and succeeded in saving our scalps, we did not care a fig for our long and toilsome journey.

Sergeant Hiles related to me his adventures after leaving camp, and I will here repeat them as a sequel to my own.  He said:  “Rolla and I travelled several days, and finally pulled up on Prairie Dog Creek.  We had seen no Indians, and were becoming careless, believing there were none in the country.