This page has been validated.
A TALE OF THE PLAINS
81

had got some of his cattle from the Injuns, and we'd always expected that if Sam ever did die—of which we had our doubts, because he was so mean—that it would be at the hand of a redskin.

"After riding about thirty mile, I come to the cattle all right, and they was sure a fine bunch. The place where Sam had left them was filled with fine grazing grass, and there was a 'drink' near-by, so's I got to feeling a little better, for I'd been afraid I was going to have some trouble in locating water. Sam had said he'd come up in three or four days, and we'd drive 'em back to where we had the main herd.

"The grass was so rich that a baby could have looked after them cattle; they stayed so close, and I was taking things easy most of the time, lying on my back and smoking.

"On the second night it was cloudy, and I had built a little fire, before which I curled up and went to sleep.

"How long I'd been asleep, I don't know. But I do know that I was suddenly wakened by feeling something sharp drawn across my forehead.

"Opening my eyes, I saw a face, hideous in white and yellow paint, peering into mine.

"Fortunately, I still had my six-shooters on me, and being pretty handy with them, it didn't take me long to put an end to Mr. Injun.

"Whether there was more than one buck