This was one of the prettiest mornings that we could have had for
the occasion. The fog disappeared with the rising of the sun, and
in many places we could look ahead and see the trail in the grass
for fifty yards. In those places we put our horses down to their
utmost. George and I were both very hungry, having had nothing to
eat since the evening before, and we had been in the saddle all
night, but an old scout forgets all this when he gets on a fresh
Indian trail and becomes somewhat excited. After we had gone about
six miles we came to a gravel country for a mile and a half, and
it was slow and tedious tracking across this, for many times we
had nothing to go by only as they might turn a little pebble over
with their feet or step on a little spear of grass and mash it
down, and this was very thin and scattering on the ridge. However,
as soon as we were across the gravelly ridge, we again struck
grass and we let our horses out almost at full speed, knowing very
well that as soon as the dew dried off it would be slow and
tedious tracking. After we had ridden about twelve miles, and just
as we raised the top of the hill, on looking across on the next
ridge we saw the three Indians, and sure enough, it was Captain
Jack, his squaw and little girl. About this time he turned and saw
us coming. He stood and looked at us for a moment or so and the
three all turned and started back to meet us.
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