Chapter Sixteen
October 1869
Grant normally woke up at first light. As usual, he splashed his face with cold water, strapped on his holster, and lit a fire in the stove to make coffee. He then heard the two dogs on the stoop scramble up and race off.
He carefully cracked the front door and heard growling in the stable. He raced that way and slipped through the cracked door. The dogs had three young Indians treed in a corner!
The dogs were growling, with the hair on the necks and backs standing straight up. One of the Indians was drawing his bowstring to shoot one of the dogs.
Grant hollered, “Stop!”
The Indian turned the arrow towards Grant. Just before he could release the bowstring, Grant fired his revolver, aiming for the man’s right shoulder. His bullet hit the man exactly
