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As he came up he said, "I am heap sorry,
I am heap much sorry." He was a young,
smart, good-looking Indian.
He said, "Can you get up?" I said,
"Yes." He said, "Will you go with me?"
And I said, "Yes, sir," and he gave me
his arm, as nice as anybody,
and took me off to see Douglas.
When Douglas said I must go back
and get my medicine book, the house
was burning, and this Ute with me,
not liking to go in, kept saying,
"Hurry up, hurry up, got to go
a long ways tonight." I found
the Pilgrim's Progress; the medical book
I gave to the Indian, and I guess
he left it there. He found and lifted
the medicine chest, and said, "No carry."
I got my shawl, blankets, and hat,
and thought of other things to take,
but knew it would not do.
When we were going back, I saw
Mr. Meeker lying stretched on the ground.
He had been shot in the forehead.
Blood was running from his mouth.
His head was leaning back, his hands
were at his sides, the fi ngers straight;
and he was lying very straight.
I was a little ways from him
the moment I saw a dead man there