In the morning it was reported that the horses had been restless. I circled the camp; and near the mouth of the creek I found where two Indians had jumped across. I knew that mischief was intended. That night I was cautious in selecting a camp ground, and careful in forming the corral; being sure that no gaps were left. Before our company left Omaha, two American families joined us. They were rough Nebraskan farmers; and one of the men, whom I will call Jerry, was of great service to me. He was good-natured, strong and fearless. A younger brother of mine was also with me. He, too, was quiet and reliable. At prayer time I told the people that I feared the Indians were following us, and that they would try to stampede our stock, which I dreaded above all things. I had seen the effects of stampedes in my first trip across the plains. A tornado is but little more to be dreaded than the rush of a large herd of crazy, frightened cattle. I have seen wagons smashed to stove-wood, and strong men trampled to death. I therefore requested Jerry and my brother to spread their blankets near me, and I kept my best horse saddled ready for any emergency. And the emergency came about three o'clock in the morning. A wild yell like an Indian war-whoop rang out on the air, followed by a rush of cattle. In an instant, all was confusion; women and children tumbled pell-mell out of the wagons in their night clothes, screaming and fainting. The men, guns in hand, formed bands and, rushing in front of the cattle, fought desperately to keep them from bolting; and caused the crazy beasts to run in a circle. Every round brought them nearer the wagons; and I knew if they struck them that we were ruined. Grasping my two trusted men, I urged them to mount their horses and throw themselves between the cattle and the wagons, and force the cattle, if possible, to bolt from us. I seconded their efforts by mounting my horse, and getting my interpreter, hurried to the men who were fighting the cattle, and led them to where I could hear Jerry and my brother's voices vainly trying at each returning surge of the dark mass, to force the cattle farther from the wagons. Massing my men at the most exposed angle of the corral, I ordered them, on the return of the cattle, to fire a volley into the air. The sheet of flame from the guns seemed for a moment to paralyze the stock; and then with a rush that shook the ground beneath our feet, away they thundered toward the foothills on the north. I lay flat on my horse, and crowding him into the jam, was swept along with the herd for about three miles, until I was satisfied no Indians were following; then I straightened up and commenced talking to them. This had the effect of quieting them. They slowed up, began lowing, as if calling to each other, and finally stopped. I was soon joined by my brother; but Jerry's horse, being slow, was soon distanced and lost, and he did not find us. Nor did he reach camp until the next day.