CHAPTER XXVI.
A BLOODY MEETING.
COULD not endure to remain in camp. I went down the river and rested there, and thought what I now should do. I began to recover strength and resolution. I said, if I was right at first I am still right. I resolved to return; but no Indian w^uld venture to go back again, and I went alone. Leaving my horse on a ranch I entered Yreka, and took the stage to Deadwood. I at once went to the Indian camp, and told them of our loss. They, supersti tious like the others, resolved to gather up their effects and supplies and return through the moun tains to the McCloud.
After seeing my old white friends a few hours, I was told that Bill Hirst, the famous man-killer and desperado, with whom I had unfortunately previously become involved, had accused me of being with the Indians, and also taking, or having a hand in taking, his horse.
