WE TRADE WITH INDIANS 



** Vinegar's done for — dead," he answered as he 

 threw down the saddle and bridle, *'an' Fm in big 

 luck myself to be here to tell it. It was this way: 

 I was chasin' a bull, an' shot him but had got too 

 close or the bronco was too slow turnin' to get 

 away — anyway the bull got his head under Vine- 

 gar an' heaved both him an' me into the air, an' we 

 come down in a heap; but by good luck the buffalo 

 went on without stopping to make further fight, 

 or he might easy have finished both of us. I 

 scrambled to my feet, Vinegar still lying where he 

 fell, with his paunch ripped open an' entrails hang- 

 ing out. With a great effort he got up onto his 

 feet, but his insides were hanging to the ground, 

 and there he stood a-looking at me pleading like 

 an' a-groaning as much as to ask me to put him 

 out of his misery, which was all I could do for 

 him; so I put my pistol to his head and finished 

 him." 



On Tom's next trip to the Kiowa camp, on 

 mentioning to old To hausen the bronco's being 

 killed, the old chief had his herd driven in, and 

 selecting a good pony — one he had used in his 

 ambulance and so knew its working qualities — he 

 insisted on Tom's taking it to replace Vinegar. 



About this time, the weather having apparently 

 settled for a mild spell. Captain Saunders and Wild 

 Bill came over from the post on their way to the 

 Kiowa village. 



Since returning from nursing the old chief, Tom 



227 



