I once had a trifling encounter with such a band.

I was making my way along the edge of the bad lands, northward from my lower ranch, and was just crossing a plateau when five Indians rode up over the further rim.

The instant they saw me they whipped out their guns and raced full speed at me, yelling and flogging their horses.

I was on a favorite horse, Manitou, who was a wise old fellow, with nerves not to be shaken by anything.

I at once leaped off him and stood with my rifle ready.
It was possible that the Indians were merely making a bluff and intended no mischief.