IN COWBOY LAND. 229 



cident. When he found that I already knew 

 a good deal old Woody told me the rest. 



It was in the spring of 1875, anc ^ Woody 

 and two friends were trapping on the Yellow- 

 stone. The Sioux were very bad at the time 

 and had killed many prospectors, hunters, cow- 

 boys, and settlers ; the whites retaliated when- 

 ever they got a chance, but, as always in Indian 

 warfare, the sly, lurking, bloodthirsty savages 

 inflicted much more loss than they suffered. 



The three men, having a dozen horses with 

 them, were camped by the river-side in a tri- 

 angular patch of brush, shaped a good deal 

 like a common flat-iron. On reaching camp 

 they started to put out their traps ; and when 

 he came back in the evening Woody informed 

 his companions that he had seen a great deal 

 of Indian sign, and that he believed there were 

 Sioux in the neighborhood. His companions 

 both laughed at him, assuring him that they 

 were not Sioux at all but friendly Crows, and 

 that they would be in camp next morning ; " and 

 sure enough," said Woody, meditatively, " they 

 were in camp next morning.' 7 By dawn one 

 of the men went down the river to look at 

 some of the traps, while Woody started out to 

 where the horses were, the third man remaining 

 in camp to get breakfast. Suddenly two shots 

 were heard down the river, and in another 

 moment a mounted Indian swept towards the 

 horses. Woody fired, but missed him, and he 

 drove off five while Woody, running forward, 

 succeeded in herding the other seven into camp. 

 Hardly had this been accomplished before the 



