The sides of the well were steep and difficult, but they had noticed a cedar growing from a crevice in the rock, the top of which reached nearly to the height of the cliff, and it seemed just possible that by its means they might be able to climb out. That night, after dark, they made the attempt and succeeded in gaining the top without being discovered by the soldiers on guard. One only, the man who had been shot in the leg, was unable to climb. He implored his comrades to take him with them, but finding that impossible, they answered that it was his life against theirs and if they remained with him or lost time in trying to get him out they would all perish together. They urged him to have a strong heart and die like a warrior; he calmly accepted the inevitable, saying only; "When you get home, tell my comrades to come back and avenge me." Then he sat down by the side of the well to await death when daylight should reveal him to his enemies. His name, Dágoi, deserves to be remembered. Dohasän was the first to reach the top; he belonged to the Kâitséñko, and it is said that before leaving the cave he had sung the song of that warrior order in which they bid defiance to death, the same which Set-ängya afterward chanted before he sprang upon the guard and was riddled with bullets by the soldiers. As they emerged they saw the fires of their enemies burning in various directions about the mouth of the cave. The Indians were sheltered by the darkness, but some of the soldiers heard a slight noise and fired at random in that direction, and seriously wounded Koñate, who was shot through the body. The Kiowa succeeded in making their escape, probably helping themselves to some of the Mexican horses, and carried with them their wounded comrade until they reached a noted spring, perhaps on the edge of the Staked plain, known as _Pai-k`op tóñtep_, "Sun-mountain spring," from its circular shape and its situation on the top of a mountain. By this time Koñate's wounds were in such condition that it seemed only a question of a few hours when he would die. Finding themselves unable to carry him in his helpless condition across the desolate plains, his friends reluctantly decided to leave him to his fate. Placing him within reach of the water, they raised over him an arbor of branches to shield him from the sun, and rode away, intending on reaching home to send back a party, in accordance with their custom, to bring back his bones for burial.