THE WOLF HUNTERS 



men and we set out for our camp, I riding one of 

 the Kiowa ponies captured in the fight. 



The horses were a rather scrawny-looking lot, 

 as the Indian ponies generally are at this season 

 of the year the result of starvation through the 

 winter but, no doubt, there was in them good 

 mettle that would show itself as soon as the grass 

 came; for the Indian warrior always selects his 

 fleetest and toughest horse to ride when going on 

 the war-path. 



Arrived at the camp, Captain Saunders had his 

 men unsaddle and water their horses and picket 

 them out for an hour's rest before starting down to 

 To hausen's village. 



Some of Lieutenant Wilson's men had killed 

 several antelope and had cooked up a great lot of 

 the meat, anticipating that Saunders' men would 

 come in hungry, as they did. Saunders, Wilson, 

 Bill, and I adjourned to the dugout to eat the 

 meal Jack had prepared for us. 



While we were eating I told Captain Saunders 

 something of my experience of the previous night 

 and exhibited the bullet that old Broken Nose 

 had fired into the bundle of blankets in my arms, 



