No sooner, however, had they a good supply on hand than they would indulge in their natural propensity for stealing stock, frequently running off thirty or forty head of cattle at a time. It made no difference to them whether these were working oxen or milch cows, so long as they had horns. As none of the settlers were wealthy men, this unscrupulous appetite for marauding upon their stock was exceedingly disgusting. Treaty after treaty had been made with the Indians, and were equally worthless, whenever they had a fair show for stealing cattle with the chance of escaping retributive justice. At length, the matter came to a head. The red robbers had run off nearly the whole of the stock belonging to a particular friend of mine. The nearest neighbors held an immediate meeting and determined, if possible, upon tracking the rascals and bringing them to book. Arming ourselves, we started at once in pursuit. Striking their trail, which was very plain, we continued after them for the best part of two days. In the noon of the second day, discovering that they were pursued, the Indians resorted to the cowardly expedient of killing the whole of the cattle. They cut open their sides, and let out their intestines, afterwards scaling the side of the mountain, to the north-east of the valley in which we had sighted them. It was a lamentably pitiable spectacle to see the poor brutes moaning their moan of death, with their glazing eyes turned upon those who had come too late to save them. Out of gun-shot, the Pah-utes--for the cruel scoundrels belonged to this tribe--taunted us in no very heroic style. This was effected by extending their hands in front of their noses, as well as by a most expressive and insulting pantomimic slap on a very significant portion of their bodies. Blackguardism seems confined to no special race or country. So, at least, it appears to me. After a brief council of war, pursuit was decided upon, and we began to mount the precipice. Harry Arnold was with me, and we managed to delude the Indians into the belief that they were beyond the range of our rifles, by letting the few shots we considered it advisable to fire, fall short of them. This ruse tempted one of them on an eminence at some distance, to repeat his aggravating gesture. "I believe I can pick that scamp off with my old Kentucky rifle, Harry!" "He's more than three hundred and fifty yards off, Mose!" "I don't think he is." "If any man can fetch him, you or I can. It's worth trying." He had scarcely concluded when the crack of my rifle was heard. The Pah-ute, who had been standing up in a more defiantly noble position than previously, uttered a loud yell, bounding into the air and rolling over the edge of the cliff, on to the rocks below.