The stock-tender had been killed by the Indians during the night.
All his ponies had been stolen and driven off.

I kept on, therefore, to Plonts Station, twelve miles further along, riding the same pony--a ride of twenty-four miles on one mount.

At Plonts I told the people what had happened at Sweetwater Bridge.

Then, with a fresh horse, I finished my route without further adventure.
[Illustration: PURSUED BY FIFTEEN BLOODTHIRSTY INDIANS, I HAD A RUNNING FIGHT OF ELEVEN MILES].