We made them sleep on the inside, and it was so arranged that some one of us should be on guard all the time.
At about one o'clock in the night it began snowing, while I was watching.
Shortly before three o'clock, Jack Farley, who was then on guard, and sitting on the foot of the bed, with his back to the prisoners, was kicked clear into the fire by Williams, and the next moment Bevins, who had got hold of his shoes--which I had thought were out of his reach--sprang up and jumped over the fire, and started on a run.

I sent a shot after him as soon as I awoke sufficiently to comprehend what was taking place.

Williams attempted to follow him, and as he did so, I whirled around and knocked him down with my revolver.

Farley by this time had gathered himself out of the fire, and Green had started after Bevins, firing at him on the run; but the prisoner made his escape into the brush.

In his flight, unfortunately for him, and luckily for us, he dropped one of his shoes.
Leaving Williams in the charge of Farley and "Long Doc," as we called the man with the pack-mule, Green and myself struck out after Bevins as fast as possible.