Cincinnatus Heine Miller,
The Overland Monthly
(1870)
“ Baboon was moody, as of old. Scott seemed like a child. It grew dark soon, the most fearful darkness I ever saw. I heard English call and curse like a madman. "There is but one chance," he said; "come up here with your horses, and cut off your saddles." He got the horses together as close as possible, and shot them down —throwing away his pistols as he emptied them. Throwing the saddles on the heap, he had each man wrap his blankets around him, and all huddle together on the mass. "No nodding, now! I'll shoot the first man who don't answer when I call him." ”
