Red Saunders | Page 2

that ain't me. If
I sing a little mite too high in the cellar, down comes the roof a-top of
me. So it was this day. Old Johnny Hardluck socked it to me, same as
usual.
Gosh a'mighty! The liquor died in me after a while, and I went sound
asleep in the saddle, and woke up with a jar--to find myself right in the
middle of old Frosthead's gang; the drums "_boom_-blipping" and
those forty-odd red tigers "hyah-hayahing" in a style that made my skin
get up and walk all over me with cold feet.
How in blazes I'd managed to slip through those Injuns I don't know.
'Twould have been a wonderful piece of scouting if I'd meant it. You
can 'most always do any darn thing you don't want to do. Well, there I
was, and, oh Doctor! but wasn't I in a lovely mess! That war-song put a
crimp into me that Jack Frost himself couldn't take out.
It was as dark as dark by this time. The moon just stuck one eye over

the edge of the prairie, and the rest of the sky was covered with cloud.
A little light came from the Injuns' camp-fire, but not enough to ride by,
and, besides, I didn't know which way I ought to go.
Says I to myself, "Billy Sanders, you are the champion all-around,
old-fashioned fool of the district. You are a jackass from the country
where ears less'n three foot long are curiosities. You sassed that poor
swatty that wanted to keep you out of this, tooting your bazoo like a
man peddling soap; but now it's up to you. What are you going to do
about it?" and I didn't get any answer, neither.
Well, it was no use asking myself conundrums out there in the dark
when time was so scarce. So I wraps my hankercher around. Laddy's
nose to keep him from talking horse to the Injun ponies, and prepared
to sneak to where I'd rather be.
Laddy was the quickest thing on legs in that part of the country--out of
a mighty spry little Pinto mare by our thoroughbred Kentucky
horse--and I knew if I could get to the open them Injuns wouldn't have
much of a chance to take out my stopper and examine my works--not
much. A half-mile start, and I could show the whole Sioux nation how I
wore my hair.
I cut for the place where the Injuns seemed thinnest, lifting myself up
till I didn't weigh fifteen pound, and breathing only when necessary.
We got along first-rate until we reached the edge of 'em, and then
Laddy had to stick his foot in a gopher-hole, and walloped around there
like a whale trying to climb a tree.
Some dam cuss of an Injun threw a handful of hay on the fire, and, as it
blazed up, the whole gang spotted me.
I unlimbered my gun, sent the irons into Laddy, and we began to walk.
I didn't like to make for the ranch, as I knew the boys were
short-handed, so I pointed north, praying to the good Lord that I'd hit
some kind of settlement before I struck the North Pole.
Well, we left those Injuns so far behind that there wasn't any fun in it. I
slacked up, patting myself on the back; and, as the trouble seemed all
over, I was just about to turn for the ranch, when I heard horses
galloping, and as the moon came out a little I saw a whole raft of
redskins a-boiling up a draw not half a mile away. That knocked me
slab-sided. It looked like I got the wrong ticket every time the wheel
turned.

I whooped it up again, swearing I wouldn't stop this deal short of a
dead sure thing. We flew through space--Laddy pushing a hole in the
air like a scart kiyote making for home and mother.
A ways down the valley I spotted a little shack sitting all alone by itself
out in the moonlight. I headed for it, hollering murder.
A man came to the door in his under-rigging.
"Hi, there! What's eating you?" he yells.
"Injuns coming, pardner! The country's just oozing Injuns! Better get a
wiggle on you!"
"All right--slide along, I'll ketch up to you," says he.
I looked back and saw him hustling out with his saddle on his arm.
"He's a particular kind of cuss," I thought; "bareback would suit most
people."
Taking it a little easier for the next couple of miles, I gave him a chance
to pull up.
We pounded along without saying anything for a spell, when I
happened to notice that his teeth were chattering.
"Keep your nerve up, pardner!" says I. "Don't you get scared--we've got
a good