When we came to Ash Hollow, instead of taking the usual trail over to the South Platte, Simpson concluded to follow the North Platte down to its junction with the South Platte.

The two trains were traveling about fifteen miles apart, when one morning while Simpson was with the rear train, he told his assistant wagon-master, George Woods and myself to saddle up our mules, as he wanted us to go with him and overtake the head train.
We started off at about eleven o'clock, and had ridden about seven miles when--while we were on a big plateau, back of Cedar Bluffs--we suddenly discovered a band of Indians coming out of the head of a ravine, half a mile distant, and charging down upon us at full speed.

I thought that our end had come this time, sure.

Simpson, however, took in the situation in a moment, and knowing that it would be impossible to escape by running our played-out mules, he adopted a bolder and much better plan.

He jumped from his own mule, and told us to dismount also.