For two more days they stood it out. There was no fighting during this time, but the presence of an Indian vedette indicated that they were under observation. They gathered some wild plums and made some jelly for the wounded; but no game came their way, and there was little for them to do but draw in their belts a little tighter and go hungry, or, better, go hungrier. On the morning of the ninth day, one of the men on watch suddenly sprang to his feet, shouting: “There are moving men on the hills.” Everybody who could stand was up in an instant, and Grover, the keen-eyed scout, shouted triumphantly: “By the God above us, there’s an ambulance!” They were rescued at last. * * * * * NOTE.—The serial publication of this article called forth another version of this affair, differing from it in some non-essential features, which was written by Mr. Herbert Myrick, and published serially. Mr. Myrick accounts for the “mysterious voice” which the scouts heard saying in English, “There goes the last of their horses anyway,” by disclosing the interesting fact that there were two renegade white men among the Indians. One of them was called “Nibsi” or “Black Jack,” a notorious desperado, who was afterwards hung for murder. The other was Jack Clybor, once a trooper of the Seventh Cavalry. Having been shot and left for dead in an engagement, the Indians captured him, nursed him back to life, adopted him, and named him “Comanche.” He was a singular compound of good and evil, and became as notorious for his good deeds as for his bad acts. Mr. Myrick has been collecting a mass of unknown and unpublished Western material for many years, which when published will undoubtedly clear up many mysteries, throw light upon many disputed questions, and prove of the deepest interest as well. ----- Footnote 28: General Fry, in his valuable book, “Army Sacrifices,” now unfortunately out of print and scarce, thus graphically describes him: “A veritable man of war, the shock of battle and scenes of carnage and cruelty were as of the breath of his nostrils; about thirty years of age, standing six feet three inches high, he towered giant-like above his companions. A grand head with strongly marked features, lighted by a pair of fierce black eyes; a large mouth with thin lips, through which gleamed rows of strong, white teeth; a Roman nose with dilated nostrils like those of a thoroughbred horse, first attracted attention, while a broad chest, with symmetrical limbs on which the muscles under the bronze of his skin stood out like twisted wire, were some of the points of this splendid animal. Clad in buckskin leggings and moccasins elaborately embroidered with beads and feathers, with a single eagle feather in his scalp-lock, and with that rarest of robes, a white buffalo, beautifully tanned and soft as cashmere, thrown over his naked shoulders, he stood forth, the war chief of the Cheyennes.”