of the Comanches rushed up and commenced to shout, "Co- chah! Co-chah!" which meant to go ahead, or, in other words, to charge. Johnnie West, who understood the language, turned to me and said:
"The Comanches are going to make another charge."
Sure enough, they did; crossing the creek and made a desperate rush for the Utes, but the Utes could not stand the pressure and retreated, the Comanches following them to the top of the hill where the Utes were camped, it being understood between the two chiefs that, when either army or tribe was driven back to the top of the hill, they had lost the battle.
The Comanches now returned, singing and shouting at the top of their voices, and in a short time a little squad of Comanches came in with about one hundred head of Ute horses. We never learned whether they had captured the horses or whether they had won them in the battle.
That night the Comanches had another big war-dance, and while the unfortunate squaws and children were weeping over the loss of their fathers and husbands, the victorious warriors were dancing, singing and shouting, and while dancing, each warrior would try to show as near as he could the manner in which he killed and scalped his enemy, and of all the silly maneuvers a white man ever witnessed, it was there at that war-dance.
The next morning there was not a Ute to be seen, all having left during the night.
The day following, the Comanches broke camp and started back for their main village on the Arkansas river. We broke camp and started out ahead of them, and in
