After listening to him a minute or so I told him if he would get
some one to tell what he wanted I would answer his question. I
suppose I was somewhat impatient, as I was suffering from my
wound. At this one of the guards rode up with a smile on his face,
and I asked him if he could tell me what Capt. Molujean was trying
to say to me. He related to me what they had told him in regard to
the sixty-odd Indians up the ravine, referring to the Indians that
had been killed in battle between the soldiers and Pah-Utes.
We had a good laugh at the Captain's expense, after which I told
him the Indians the guard had reference to were all good Indians.
"Oh! is that so?" he exclaimed, and these were the first words he
had been able to utter. "But," he continued, "I did not know there
were any good Indians in this country; I thought all of them were
savage." I told the Captain that those Indians were dead, and that
all dead Indians were good ones. This was a stunner for the
Captain, and I do not think that the joke has ever penetrated his
massive skull.
We did not see any more Indians or any sign of them on the trip.
On reaching headquarters we found Jim Beckwith awaiting our
arrival. He had been out with three other men whom he had hired to
help him blaze a road across the mountains through his new pass.
He had finished his work on the road and returned to Col.
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