In attempting to remove it the shaft
separated from the steel arrowhead, leaving the latter imbedded in the
lad's shoulder. We were then one hundred and twelve miles distant from
Fort Concho, the nearest point where medical relief might be expected.
The drovers were alarmed for the man's welfare; it was impossible to
hold the herd longer, so the young fellow volunteered to make the ride
alone. He was given the best horse in the remuda, and with the falling
of darkness started for Fort Concho. I had the pleasure of meeting him
afterward, as happy as he was hale and hearty.
The start across the arid stretch was made at noon. Every hoof had
been thoroughly watered in advance, and with the heat of summer on us
it promised to be an ordeal to man and beast. But Loving had driven it
before, and knew fully what was before him as we trailed out under a
noonday sun. An evening halt was made for refreshing the inner man,
and as soon as darkness settled over us the herd was again started.
We were conscious of the presence of Indians, and deceived them
by leaving our camp-fire burning, but holding our effects closely
together throughout the night, the remuda even mixing with the cattle.
When day broke we were fully thirty miles from our noon camp of the
day before, yet with the exception of an hour's rest there was never a
halt. A second day and night were spent in forging ahead, though it
is doubtful if we averaged much over a mile an hour during that time.
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