As day was beginning to break, we--the mule and myself--found ourselves on a hill looking down on the Pawnee Fork, on which Fort Larned was located, only four miles away.

When the sunrise gun sounded we were within half a mile of the Post.
I was thoroughly out of patience by this time.
"Now, Mr.Mule," I said, "it is my turn," and threw my gun to my shoulder.

Like the majority of Government mules, he was not easy to kill.

He died hard, but he died.
Hearing the report of the gun, the troops came rushing out to see what was the matter.

When they heard my story they agreed that the mule had got no more than his deserts.