WE PART FROM FRIENDS 



and I rode at the head of the column with the 

 company officers. 



As we reached the crest of the grade coming 

 onto the upland, about two miles from our recent 

 camp, with the officers we turned out on the side 

 of the trail as the command marched by, to take 

 a parting look at Camp Coyotelope; and we no- 

 ticed what appeared to be a number of Indians — 

 some mounted and some afoot — moving about in 

 the vicinity of the dugouts. 



"Some of To hausen's people," suggested Bill, 

 *' looking after the bodies of old Nosey and his 

 pard and gathering up the leavings about the old 

 camp. They'll take them two dead bucks back 

 to their camp and bury them." 



I had dismounted and taken out our field-glass 

 to get a better view of the Indians and verified 

 the scout's surmise, for I could plainly see a group 

 gathered about the body of each of the two dead 

 Indians, apparently lifting them onto their ponies. 



"There, Peck," said Bill, noticing the field-glass 

 I held, "is another thing I'd Hke to buy or trade 

 you out of, for I got mine broke yesterday morn- 

 ing when my horse fell with me; and I need glasses, 

 and you're going back to Leavenworth where you 

 can easy get another pair." As he took the glass 

 to examine it, he asked: "How much is it 

 worth?" 



"It cost us twenty dollars in Leavenworth," I 

 replied. "They are handy things to have on the 



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