Some miles above, the beeves had found several
passageways down to the water, but in drifting up and down stream
they missed these entrances on returning. A rally was made late that
afternoon to rout the cattle out of the river-bed, one half the outfit
going above, the remainder working around Horsehead, where the bulk of
the herd had watered. I had gone upstream with Goodnight, but before
we reached the upper end of the cattle fresh Indian sign was noticed.
There was enough broken country along the river to shelter the
redskins, but we kept in the open and cautiously examined every brake
within gunshot of an entrance to the river. We succeeded in getting
all the animals out of the water before dark, with the exception of
one bunch, where the exit would require the use of a mattock before
the cattle could climb it, and a few head that had bogged in the
quicksand below Horsehead Crossing. There was little danger of a rise
in the river, the loose contingent had a dry sand-bar on which to
rest, and as the Indians had no use for them there was little danger
of their being molested before morning.
We fell back about a mile from the river and camped for the night.
Although we were all dead for sleep, extra caution was taken to
prevent a surprise, either Goodnight or Loving remaining on guard over
the outfit, seeing that the men kept awake on herd and that the guards
changed promptly.
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