This dreary and waterless plain was not the abode of animal life, save the lizard, the horn toad and the rattlesnake. Game was said to be plentiful in the foothills and mountains, but they were too far away. The few Indians scattered along the river and the far-separated and uncertain tributaries had, I am informed, no organized tribal relation, but were the vagabonds driven off by contiguous tribes. Their subsistance was precarious, consisting of fish, grasshoppers, crickets or black locusts, and an occasional rabbit. But two incidents worthy of narration occurred in our journey down the river. One was a stampede of our horses by the Indians about two o'clock a. m. One of the four men detailed to guard them on that night informed me that he was unwell, and I took his place. The horses were on excellent grass a little over a mile from camp. A short time before sundown we rolled up our blankets and with our arms, departed for our night's work. We all took a careful survey of the surroundings and the horses, and then two of us rolled ourselves up in our blankets to be awakened at one o'clock a. m. Promptly at that time we were called. The watchmen reported that all was well; but the horses seemed a little restless and uneasy, and the watchmen thought that wolves were prowling around in the sage-brush, and although unseen by them, the presence of the wolves was detected by the keener scent and clearer vision of the horses. The night was star light and clear. The moon, when our watch commenced, was just lifting its pale head above the eastern hills. We made a circuit of the herd and passed among and through them, for some were spanselled and others had long trail ropes about their necks. Finding all things in a satisfactory condition, my companion took his position on the left of the center of the herd, and I a similar position on the right. Scarcely had we got to our position when a small band, or party, of Indians suddenly arose from the sage-brush about midway between us, and, with a wild whoop and flourish of blankets, startled the horses and sent them, with all the speed they were capable of making, towards the distant western hills. I fired a shot at long range in the direction of the perfidious savages, but I am quite certain that it did them no harm. They immediately disappeared, however, in the thick sage-brush, and I saw no more of them until I had succeeded in stopping the horses. I got hold of several trail-ropes, one of which belonged to my favorite riding mare; I quickly mounted her, and with a dash I was soon in front of the affrighted animals. I talked to them; they knew my voice and stopped. The horse looks to his master as his protector. I have seen many proofs of this fact in my lonely wanderings in the hills and mountains, with no companion but my faithful horse. Such a horse always knows where you are; if he does not, he will take your trail and come to you. If in a