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Drannan, William F., 1832-1913

"Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains"

By this time one
of the others had staggered to his feet and had his pistol out,
but, fortunately, he seemed to be blind, for he fired his pistol
in the opposite direction from where I stood. I turned and dealt
him his fatal dose.
I tried to catch their pack horses but missed one of them, and as
time was precious, for I did not know what moment the seven would
come, I took their rifles, broke the stocks off of them, took
their pistols along with me, mounted Black Bess, rounded up their
horses and started for the train, and I lost no time in getting
there, and as I sped across the country on Black Bess after the
nine captured animals I felt that I could congratulate myself on
getting out of the tightest place I had ever been in, without even
a scratch.
When I arrived at camp and reported to the Lieutenant he at once
started two companies of cavalry out to try and cut the other
seven off, instructing them to watch every trail and every
watering place within fifty miles, closely.
I changed horses and started with George Jones and six other
scouts, and the last words that Lieut. Jackson said to me as I was
ready to ride away was: "Don't spare horse flesh, but run them
down Cap, if it is possible, and let us break up this thieving
band. I would rather kill one Mexican any time than two Apaches."
Across the country we rode at a rapid rate, but were not able to
reach the spot until after daylight.


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