I am sorry about the drops on the paper, I hope you can still read through the smudges.
Houses are burning and screams are coming from all directions and the smell of burning corpses is the only smell there is. I run into a saloon where four Appanuqis are biting pieces off of a screaming woman’s leg whose head they have covered with a spittoon. I shoot them down, but not before she bleeds out. I go out and see an adolescent boy shoot a brave and then have his face split down the middle by a tomahawk so that his brain shows.
We tried to put them down, but the Appanuqis won. The townsfolk of Rope’s End were massacred. Sixty or seventy Indians survived and ran back up to where we’d left Quinlan and his crew tied up. D, the other fellow and I found J, put him on a horse, and rode out the oth
