PECK. Quickly tying this slip to Found's collar and taking down an old cap of Tom's from which to give the dog the scent, I hurried back on top of the dugout. I spoke to the dog and then pointed to the covered wagon, still plainly visible, and for fear he did not see it I lifted him up in my arms, pointed again to the far-off wagon, repeating the names, "Tom--Jack!" The intelligent creature looked up into my face, as I set him down, and then at the wagon, barked and wagged his tail vigorously as though he thought he understood me. I then pointed again to the wagon, held Tom's old cap to his nose, and said, "_Go to Tom_," motioning with my hand toward the wagon. Found looked carefully all around, as though to see if there were any Indians about, and then instead of following the wagon tracks, as I supposed he would, he started down into the bottom of the ravine, the head of which led toward the wagon; and after going a few rods, stopped and looked inquiringly back at me, as if to ask: "Am I right?" [Illustration: "Go to Tom."] "Yes, yes," I answered impatiently as I motioned him away, "go to Tom! go to Tom!" The dog seemed now fully to comprehend my wishes, and lit out up the ravine on a lively run, now and then disappearing from my view for a moment in the sinuosities of the gulch. I turned to go down into the cabin to get the field-glass, the better to watch the progress of the dog, and in doing so I instinctively cast my glance in the direction of the point of timber where Satank and Joe had entered a few moments before, and there saw a party of mounted Indians hurrying out of the woods and starting across the prairie after the team. The Kiowas were about as near the wagon as Found, and it seemed that it would be a close race between the dog and Indians as to which would reach the team first. With the field-glass I watched the advance of Indians and dog with excited anxiety. The pursuers and my messenger had entered broken ground between the creek valley and the upland, and I could catch only occasional glimpses of them. To get a better view I climbed up on the derrick, where we usually hung our fresh meat, which gave me a few feet more of elevation. I tried to count the Indians as they started in pursuit of the wagon and made out that they numbered about forty.