All along the stage route were robbers and man-killers far more vicious than the Indians.

Very early in my career as a frontiersman I had an encounter with a party of these from which I was extremely fortunate to escape with my life.
I employed the leisure afforded me by my assignment as an extra rider in hunting excursions, in which I took a keen delight.

I was returning home empty-handed from a bear hunt, when night overtook me in a lonely spot near a mountain stream.

I had killed two sage-hens and built a little fire over which to broil them before my night's rest.
Suddenly I heard a horse whinny farther up the stream.

Thinking instantly of Indians, I ran quickly to my own horse to prevent him from answering the call, and thus revealing my presence.
Filled with uneasiness as to who and what my human neighbors might be, I resaddled my horse, and, leaving him tied where I could reach him in a hurry if need be, made my way up-stream to reconnoiter.