voices, and looking around, saw within a dozen steps of me five or six Indians lying on the grass, and talking in low tones.  They had noticed me, but evidently thought I was one of their own number.  Divining the situation in a moment, I walked carelessly on until near the crest of the hill, where I suddenly came upon a dozen more Indians, crawling along on their hands and knees.  One of them gruffly ordered me down, and I am sure I lost no time in dropping into the grass.  Crawling carefully along, for I knew it would not do to stop, I still managed to keep a good way behind and off to one side.  We at last reached the road, and the Indians, gun in hand, took up their position in the long grass close by the roadside.  I knew the up-coach would be due at the station in half an hour, and I was now myself in the unpleasant position of waylaying one of the very coaches I had been sent to guard.  Perhaps one of my own soldiers coming up on the coach would kill me, and then what would people say? how would my presence with the Indians be explained? and how would it sound to have the newspapers publish, far and near, that an officer of the United States army had deserted his post, joined the Indians, and attacked a stage-coach?  However, there was no help for it, and I lay still waiting for developments.  It was now time for the coach, and we watched the road with straining eyes.  Two or three times I thought I heard the rumbling of the wheels, and a tremor seized me, but it was only the wind rustling in the tall grass.  An hour went by, and still no coach.  The Indians became uneasy, and one who seemed to be the leader of the expedition rose up, and, motioning the others to follow him, started off down the hill toward the ravine.  I made a motion as if getting up, and seeing the Indians’ backs turned, dropped flat on my face and lay perfectly still.  Slowly their footsteps faded away, and raising my head I saw them mount their ponies and disappear over the neighbouring hill, as if going down the road to meet the coach.

As soon as they were out of sight, I sprang up and ran as fast as I could to the ranch when, relating what had happened, I started with some soldiers and citizens down the road to meet the stage.  We had not gone far when we heard it coming up, and on reaching it found it had been attacked by Indians a few miles below, one passenger killed and two severely wounded.  The coach had but three horses, one having been killed in the fight.  The Indians had dashed at the coach mounted, hoping to kill the horses, and thus cut off all means of retreat or flight, but they had only succeeded in killing one horse, when the passengers and soldiers had driven them off, compelling them to carry two of their number with them, dead or desperately wounded.

        I was more careful after that, when I went out hunting ponies,
        and never tried again to waylay a coach with Indians.