I was riding Buckskin Joe, who with a few jumps brought me up to the tepee, followed by my men.

We nearly ran over the Indians who were endeavoring to reach their horses on the opposite side of the creek.

Just as one was jumping the narrow stream a bullet from my old "Lucretia" overtook him.

He never reached the other bank, but dropped dead in the water.

Those of the Indians who were guarding the horses, seeing what was going on at the camp, came rushing to the rescue of their friends.