APPROACH TO THE FAR WEST. 197 



As we were now gradually approaching the Far West, 

 I called Mr Canterall to me to ask about the state of the 

 arms, when in course of conversation he related to me 

 the following tale the truth of the tale, like all others 

 told to me, I do not vouch for but of the events of 

 which lie said he had, in his youth, been an eye-witness; no 

 doubt, from the brutal cruelty perpetrated, if he had been 

 there he was an active partisan. He told me that when 

 on the plains with a strong party, they were attacked at 

 night by Indians, who attempted to get up a stampede 

 among their oxen, and to some extent succeeded. They, 

 however, repulsed the attempt, and collected their beasts. 

 In bringing their cattle back to the camp, their sentinel 

 on duty observed in the darkness, slightly illumined by 

 the embers of the watch-fire, that there appeared to be 

 more on the back of one of the oxen than was natural, 

 and something made him so very suspicious of an Indian 

 seeking ingress to the pickets of the beasts in that am 

 bushed fashion, that he fired at the risk of killing the ox, 

 and this occasioning some bustle, what with the confusion, 

 darkness, and smoke of his rifle, he lost sight of the iden 

 tical ox, when, on an inspection of the beasts, all was found 

 to be right, and]nothing seen of an enemy. The com 

 panions of the sentinel jeered him on the matter, and it 

 was set down that the man had been mistaken. The next 

 morning, however, showed that the sentinel had been vigil 

 ant and had but done his duty, for there on the spot of the 

 occurrence, in the long grass, lay an Indian, shot through 

 the loins, the lower part of his figure paralysed, but the 

 redskin was, in other respects, quite alive and sensible. 



" What did you do with him ?" I asked. 



" Oh," replied Mr Canterall, " as he couldn't stand up, 

 we carried him and set him against a tree, and he made 



