He was looking in the
opposite direction, and I saw him fire three shots from his carbine in
rapid succession. Dismounting the men, I made rapid preparations to
meet an attack, and proceeded to work our way slowly up the height,
and when we reached the narrow level at the top we found Hudson and
the two soldiers that formed our advance occupying a shelter among the
rocks to the left, and gazing down the opposite slope.
"What is it, Hudson?" I asked.
"A party of Indians attempted to jump me here. There they go
now--across that opening in the sage-brush!"
A dozen Indians dashed across an open space south of the road, but too
far away for effective shooting, and then two more passed over,
supporting a third between them.
"You must have hit one of them."
"I tried to. I think another was hurt more seriously, by the way he
acknowledged my shot."
"Are you hurt?"
"A slight scratch on the arm near the shoulder, and my horse is hurt."
An examination of Hudson's arm proved that the scratch was not
serious, but I thought it best to exchange his horse for one belonging
to a soldier.
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