In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers

AN INDIAN RAID

The time passed very pleasantly; Will had become a great favourite with both Señor Sarasta and his wife, and was treated as one of the family. Donna Clara often accompanied the party on horseback, and when her first shyness with Will had worn off, he found that she was lively and high-spirited. Accustomed to horses from her infancy, she was an admirable rider, and, although both Juan and Will were mounted on some of the best horses on the ranch, she could leave them behind on her favourite mare, a beautiful creature that she herself had broken in. At the end of three months Will felt that, much as he was enjoying himself, he must not outstay his welcome; but, upon his broaching the subject of leaving, the whole family protested so indignantly against such an idea, that he felt they really desired him to stay with them. Juan spoke to him on the subject as soon as they started on horseback together that afternoon.

"The idea of your leaving us is altogether preposterous, Will; do you think that we should for a moment let you go? Where, indeed, would you go? What ideas have you in your mind? Are you not one of us completely?"

"You are awfully good to me; I was never so happy in my life," Will replied, "but there is reason in all things; I cannot spend my life here. I must be doing something for my living. As I told you, I do not want to return home until I can say to my father, I have been a success, I require no favours, and am in a position to keep myself."

"I understand that," Juan said, "but how do you propose doing it?"

"I should do it somehow. I can at least ride now, and have more ways of making a living open to me than I had before."

"My dear Will, you are talking nonsense, and if you suppose that we are going to let you go out into the world in that sort of way you are altogether mistaken. At any rate, leave the matter alone for the present; we may see our way more clearly in time;" and had Will happened to glance at his companion's face, he would have been puzzled by the slight smile that glanced across it.

Two months later all hands were busy on the ranch. It was the season at which the herds were weeded out, the old bulls and some of the young ones slaughtered, skinned, and boiled down. Will only once accompanied Señor Sarasta and Juan to the scene of operations. He was interested in the Indians, who, with their squaws and young ones, had come down and established a camp of their own. They were free to take as much meat as they pleased, not only for eating, but for drying for future consumption; broad, thin slices of flesh were cut up and hung on ropes between poles to dry in the sun. Three days sufficed for the operation. The meat, now almost as hard as leather, was pounded by the women between heavy stones, and then mixed with a little salt and packed tightly in bags made of skins. In this state it would keep for an indefinite time. Will Harland often went there, but could not be induced to approach the spot where the animals were slaughtered. He was much rallied by Señor Sarasta and Juan on what they called his faint-heartedness.

"I admit all you say," he replied. "I don't mind going into a fight myself, but I cannot stand seeing those poor brutes killed. I know that it is necessary, and that your vaqueros do it almost instantaneously; at the same time, it is not necessary for me to see it. I would very much rather stay away and watch the natives, with the shrivelled old women, and the funny little papooses."

Clara nodded approvingly. "You are quite right, Don William," for although the others all, like Juan, called him simply by his Christian name, Clara still continued the more formal mode of address. "I never go near the yard myself when it is going on."

"Ah! it is one thing for a girl not to like it," Juan said, "but for Will, whom I have seen as cool as possible when his life was in danger, and who fired at a man as steadily as if he had been shooting at a target, it seems odd. However, one does not go to see the animals killed; no one can take pleasure in that. The interest lies in the skill and courage of the vaqueros, who are constantly risking their lives; and, indeed, there is scarcely a season passes in which one or two of them are not killed."

The work occupied nearly a month; then Juan started with his father for San Diego, where the formal betrothal of the former was to take place. At this his father's presence was necessary, and the latter would make his usual arrangements for chartering a ship to go down to receive the hides and skins full of tallow at the mouth of the river. Will had again proposed that he should accompany them and say good-bye to them there. As before, his proposal was scoffed at.

"It will be time enough to think of that when I go down three months hence to be married," Juan said; "and now you must take our places here, and look after my mother and sister. You will have to play the part of my younger brother, and keep things straight. When we come back, we will have a serious talk about the future."

Will was indeed now quite at home in the work of the ranch, and not infrequently rode in one direction to give orders respecting the herds, while Juan rode in the other; and the vaqueros all regarded him as being invested with authority by their master. The report of Antonio and Sancho of what had taken place at San Diego and on the road, had greatly predisposed them in his favour, and the manner in which he had succeeded in sitting a horse that few of them would venture to mount had greatly increased their respect for him. Don Señor Sarasta settled the matter by saying, "If you were to go with Juan I could not leave at the same time, Will, and I particularly wish to be present at his betrothal. It would be strange and contrary to all custom if one of his family were not there; still, we could hardly be away together unless there were someone here to take our place. You know questions are constantly referred to us. One herd strays into the ground allotted to another, disputes arise between vaqueros, and, in fact, someone in authority must be here."

"Very well, sir. Then, if you think that I can be really useful, I shall be only too glad to stay. You know that my own inclinations are all that way. I have already been here five months, and I feel that this delightful life must come to an end before long. However, since you are good enough to say that I can really be of use in your absence, I will gladly remain here until Juan goes down again to fetch his bride."

Two days later the Mexican and his son rode off, accompanied by six well-armed horsemen. Will found plenty to do, and was out the greater part of the day. Two days after the others had started he saw one of the Indians talking to Antonio. As soon as the latter saw him he left the Indian and came up to him.

"This Indian, who is one of the chiefs of our tribe, señor, tells me that there is a report that the Indians on the other side of the river are preparing for an expedition. It is supposed that it is against another tribe farther east. They have not raided on this side of the river for many years, but he thought that it was as well to let us know that they are at present in an unsettled state. He says that he will have some of his warriors down near the river, and that he will let us know as soon as he has any certain news."

"Is there anything to be done, do you think, Antonio?"

"No, señor; wars are frequently going on between the Indians to the east, but we have never had any trouble with them since we came here. If our Indians thought that there was any danger, they would very soon be flocking down here, for they have always been promised that they should be supplied with firearms were anything of that sort to happen, and they know that, with the aid of our people, they could beat off any number of these red-skins."

"I have no doubt that we could defend ourselves, Antonio; however, you see that in Don Sarasta's absence I have a very heavy responsibility, and I think that it would be as well to take some precaution. Will you ask the chief to send down a dozen of his warriors? They shall be paid, in powder and in blankets, whatever is the usual sum. I want them to establish themselves round the hacienda, to keep guard at night. I don't mean that they shall stay close to the house, but scout down towards the river, so that in case of alarm there would be time to get you all in from the huts. How many sleep there?"

"There are about thirty of us who look after the herds in the lower parts of the valley, and eight or ten peons who work in the garden round the house."

"Well, that force, with the half-dozen servants in the house, would be able to hold the hacienda against almost any number of Indians, and you could all be here in ten minutes from the alarm being given."

"Very well, señor, I will tell the chief."

He talked for a few minutes with the Indian.

"He will send twelve of his braves down to-morrow," he said, when he rejoined Will.

"Very well, let him do so; I shall certainly feel more comfortable. What tribe do these Indians on the other side of the river belong to?"

"They are a branch of the Tejunas, who are themselves a branch of the Apaches. The head-quarters of the tribe lie on the east side of Arizona, between the Gila River and the Little Colorado. The Tejunas lie between them and the Colorado; they are just as bad as the Apaches themselves, and both of them are scourges to the northern districts of Mexico."

"What are our Indians?"

"They are a branch of the Genigueh Indians. They live among the hills between Iron Bluff, sixty miles below us, and those hills you see as many miles up. A good many of them hunt during the season on the other side as far east as Aquarius Mountains, in what is known as the Mohave country, but they never go farther south that side than the river Santemaria, for the Tejunas would be down upon them if they caught them in what they consider their country."

"I wish the señor was back," Will said; "though I dare say it is all right, and that, as the Indians haven't made a raid across here for many years, they will not do so now. How would they get across the river?"

"They would swim across, señor. An Indian thinks nothing of swimming a wide river; he simply slips off his horse, and either puts his hands on its back, or more generally holds on by its tail."

"Have these fellows guns?"

"A great many of them have. They capture them from the Mexicans, or, in peaceable times, trade skins or their blankets or their Indian trumpery for them. It is against the law to sell guns to the Indians, but most Mexicans will make a bargain if they have the chance, without the slightest regard to any law."

"How is it that the Mexican government does not try and get rid of these Indians? I see by the map that the frontier line is a long way north of the Gila."

"Yes, señor; they may put the line where they like, but there is not a white man for a couple of hundred miles north of the Gila, except on the Santa Fé River, and even there they are never safe from the Apaches and the Navajoes. Why, it would want an army of twenty thousand men to venture among the mountains north of the Gila, and they would all die of starvation before they ever caught sight of an Apache. No, señor; unless there is an earthquake and the whole region is swallowed up, I don't see any chance of getting the better of the red rascals."

After entering the house, Will said nothing of the news which he had heard. It seemed that there was no real ground for alarm, and yet he could not but feel very uneasy. The next morning he rode down to the river, where a number of peons were engaged in loading the rafts with hides and tallow. He had told Donna Sarasta that he should be down there all day, as he wanted to get the work pushed on. He had been there but two hours when Antonio rode up at a headlong gallop.

"What is it, Antonio?" Will exclaimed, for it was evident from the man's appearance that his errand was one of extreme importance.

"The hacienda has been attacked by Indians, señor; I was with the herd two miles this side of it when I heard some shots fired. I galloped to see what was the matter, but when I got within a quarter of a mile I saw that the Indians were swarming round it. A dozen started in pursuit of me, but they did not follow me far."

Will stood as one thunderstruck.

"But how can they have got there, Antonio?"

"They must have come by what is called the little gap. You know it, señor,—that valley that runs off from the other nearly abreast of the hacienda. Following that and crossing a shoulder, you cross down on to the river some ten miles higher up. They must have crossed there by swimming in the night."

"But the chief said he had scouts there."

"They could hardly watch thirty miles of the river, señor; besides, the red-skins would have sent over two or three swimmers to silence anyone they found near the place where they were to cross."

By this time a dozen other vaqueros, who had been warned by Antonio as he came down, joined them.

"We must ride for the hacienda at once," Will said, leaping into the saddle.

"No use, señor, no use. I should say there must be four hundred or five hundred of the red-skins, and we may be sure that there is not a soul alive now at the hacienda or at the huts. They will be here in a short time, of that there is no doubt; probably half will come down the valley and half will go up. We must ride for it, sir; follow the river down till we are past the hills; there is not a moment to be lost."

The peons who had gathered round gave a cry of despair. "You can go if you like, Antonio; I see we can do nothing at present, but I will not leave the place."

"What will you do then, señor?"

"We will take the rafts and pole them across the river; there are no signs of Indians there, and it is not likely there will be now." Then he turned to the peons. "You have heard what I said. Get to the rafts at once, there is not a moment to be lost. Look at that herd galloping wildly; you may be sure that the red-skins are after them."

"The señor's advice is good," Antonio said, "and there is not a moment to be lost. Get on board all of you, comrades; tie your bridles to the rafts."

All hurried on to the rafts, the ropes that held them to the shore were cut, and the peons, putting out the poles, pushed them into the stream. The rafts were already heavily laden, by far the greater portion of the cargo having been placed on board. Most of the vaqueros had their rifles slung across their shoulders, as they had heard from Antonio what the Indian had said, and had, on starting out, taken their guns with them.

"One never can tell what will happen," Antonio said; "it is always well to be on the safe side."

Although the peons exerted themselves to the utmost, the rafts moved but slowly, and they were but seventy or eighty yards from the shore when a large band of Indians rode down to the bank and at once opened fire. As they approached, Will shouted to all the men to take their places on the other side of the piles of hide, and, using these as a breast-work, those having guns at once returned the Indian fire. Five or six of the red-skins fell, and the plunging of many horses showed that they were wounded. A chief, who seemed to be in command, waved his hand and shouted to his followers, who were evidently about to urge their horses into the river, when Will, who had held his fire, took a steady aim at the chief, and the latter fell dead from his horse.

"Will they take to the water, Antonio?" he asked the vaquero, who had taken his place on the raft with him.

"I do not think so, señor; it is not in Indian nature to run such a risk as that. We should shoot down numbers of them before they reached us, and they would have a tough job then, for the peons would fight desperately with their long knives, and it is no easy matter to climb out of the water on to a raft with two or three men with long knives waiting for you. This band are Apaches, señor; they have evidently joined the Tejunas in a big raid."

The Indians for a few minutes continued their fire, but as those on the rafts only showed their heads when they stood up to fire, and every bullet told in the crowded mass, the Indians sullenly rode off.

The peons then resumed their poles, and in ten minutes reached the opposite shore. Will sat down as soon as he had seen the horses landed, with a feeling of despair in his heart. In the hurried arrangements for the safety of those with him he had scarcely had time to think. Now that there was nothing to do, the full horror of the situation was felt, and the thought of Donna Sarasta and of Clara being murdered altogether overpowered him, and his cheeks were moistened with tears. What would the señor and Juan say on their return? They had left him in charge, and although he could hardly be said to be to blame, yet he might have taken greater precautions. He should not have relied upon the Indian scouts, but have kept at least enough of the men up at the house to offer a serious defence. Antonio, who was at the head of one of the parties in charge of a herd, came up to him presently.

"Well, señor, 'tis no use grieving, and assuredly if anyone is to blame it is I rather than you, for I assured you that there was no danger. I shall tell the señor so when he comes. Had he been here he would, I feel sure, have waited for further news before regarding the matter as serious. Now, señor, what do you propose to do next? You are our leader."

"The first thing to do is to go to the hacienda after dark, and to find out what has happened there. How long do you think that the Indians will remain in the valley?"

"Some days, I should say, señor. They will no doubt kill a number of cattle and jerk the meat. Then they will drive off as many as they think they can take with them, and probably slay the rest out of pure wickedness."

"The principal point is to find out if all at the hacienda have been killed."

"That you may be sure of, señor; but still it is right that we should know. There may be one exception, although I can hardly hope."

"How do you mean, Antonio?"

"I mean, señor, that the señorita may have been spared for a worse fate—I mean, may have been carried off by them. The Indians, while sparing no one else, old or young, always carry off the young women."

"Great heavens!" Will exclaimed, stepping back, as if he had been struck. "You do not say so! A thousand times better had she been murdered by her mother's side. It is maddening to sit here and be able to do nothing, not even to be able to find out if this dreadful thing is true. How many men have we with guns?"

"Thirteen besides myself and you, señor."

"Those who have no rifles will be useless; they had better go down with the rafts as soon as it becomes dark."

"Yes, señor, that would be best. The Indians are sure to swim across to-night, and the four rafts would do well to push off as soon as they can no longer be seen from the other side. The four head men, who will go down with them, are all here."

"Call them up."

The four white men came to him.

"As soon as it is dark," he said, "you must push off; do not make the slightest noise; when you get out in the middle of the stream let the current take you down, only using the poles, when it is absolutely necessary to keep you from approaching either bank. The twelve vaqueros who have not guns had better go with you; that will give three to each raft. We will pick out thirteen of the best horses, the others you must kill this afternoon for food. Have you fishing-lines?"

"Yes, señor, we always carry them with us; and we have spears and can fish by torch-light."

"Good! then you will manage very well. The vaqueros and what peons you do not require must be landed as soon as you have passed the mountains; they had better strike up to Monterey and wait there for orders. I will give money to one of them to buy a horse there and ride with the news to Don Sarasta at San Diego."

HOPEFUL NEWS

When all the arrangements had been made for the departure of the raft, Will Harland said to Antonio: "Do you think that it will be absolutely impossible to approach the hacienda by daylight?"

"It could not be done, señor, and, indeed, I don't see that any good could come of it, for even if we could get in unobserved, there would be no one of whom we could ask questions or find out anything as to what has taken place. It is just possible that in the confusion of the attack some of the peons employed in the house, the stables, or our huts may have escaped and hidden themselves. The Indians are good searchers, but just at first they would be anxious to make their success as complete as possible, and doubtless a large party rode up the valley at once while the others started down it. It was important that they should surprise the men with the various herds before they could gather together, for even if twenty or thirty could have rallied they would have made a hard fight of it before they lost their scalps. Therefore, any who escaped in the attack on the house may have hidden themselves from the first search, and we may possibly come across them at night. They would assuredly never leave their hiding-places until darkness had fallen.

"I have some hopes of Sancho. If anyone has got out safe he has. He had a good deal of experience in Indian fighting some fifteen years ago, when he was farther east, and is sure to have his wits about him. He was at our hut when I came along this morning. As you know, he got hurt by a young bull in the yard ten days since. He was nearly well again, but the padre said he had better keep quiet for another day or two. I fancy that he was the only man there except the peons, for it is a busy time. At the first war-whoop he heard he would make for shelter, for he would know that it was no use his trying to fight the whole tribe. There is a thick patch of brush twenty or thirty yards from the huts. I expect that he would make for that straight. There is a tank in the middle that was used at one time, but the water was always muddy, and the master had a fresh one made handy to the huts, and since then the path to the old tank has been overgrown, and no one ever goes there. If Francisco is alive, he is lying in that pond under the bushes that droop over it all round."

"He would not be able to give us any information as to what was done in the house."

"No, señor. But he would be of great assistance to us if we follow the red-skins. He is up to all their ways, and is a good shot with the rifle. At any rate, if we go down to the house I should like to try to find him. We have been comrades a good many years now."

"Certainly, Antonio, you shall see if you can find him. He is a good fellow, and, as you say, would be of great assistance to us. Do you think that we could make a circuit and come down on the river again two or three miles higher up, and cross there and get anywhere near the house?"

"We might do it, señor, but as we cannot get near enough to do any good, I think we should be wrong to move from here. You may be sure that there are some of the red-skins hiding on the opposite bank, keeping a sharp watch on us. If any of us were to ride away, one of them would carry the news at once, and they would be on the look-out for us. If we all stay here till it is dark, they would suppose that we have all gone down with the rafts. That will be good for the rafts, too, for the Indians would be unlikely to attack them, believing that there were some fifteen or twenty men with guns on them; and, in the next place, they will think that they are clear of us altogether and be less cautious than they might be if they were to suppose that we were still in their neighbourhood."

"You are right, Antonio, and I will try and be patient."

As soon as it was dark the little party of fifteen men started, moving as noiselessly as possible. They rode two miles up the river to a point where Antonio said they were opposite a path by which they could keep along at the foot of the hills until in a line with the hacienda.

"You don't think that there is any fear of there being any red-skins on the farther side?"

"Not the slightest, señor. Long before this they will have their fires lighted and be gorging themselves with meat. They know how small our force is, and will never dream of our venturing back into their midst."

As they rode into the river they slipped off their horses as the latter began to swim, holding on with one hand, and with the other keeping their guns, pistols, and ammunition above the water. The river at this point was some two hundred yards wide, and flowing with a quiet current. In a few minutes they were across. Antonio soon discovered the path, and, following it, they rode in single file for an hour. Then they reached a spot where there was an opening among the trees, and Antonio said that they were abreast of the hacienda, which was some four miles away; the building itself was not visible, but the number of fires which blazed round it was a sufficient indication of its position. At various other points up and down the valley fires also blazed, but there was none much nearer their side of the valley than those round the hacienda.

"Do you mean to go with me, señor?"

"Certainly I mean to go. How had it best be done?"

"I should say that we had better ride to within two miles; it would not be safe to go with so large a party nearer than that; then we will take one of the others with us to hold our horses, and, going at a foot-pace, we might get within half a mile of the house without their hearing us. There will be a good deal of movement in the valley; the cattle will be restless, having been chased all day, and the herds broken up, so I think that we can reckon on getting pretty close. Then we will go forward on foot. We had better make for the huts first; you see, the Indians are thick round the house; I don't think there is any chance of anyone being saved there, because that would be the first point of attack. If we do not find Sancho, possibly we may come upon one or two of the peons, who would be likely enough to make for the same shelter; if not, we can try round the stables. Still, I am afraid there is no chance of hearing what has happened at the house—I mean, whether the señorita is killed or a prisoner. If there is no other way we must get hold of an Indian and kill him; I will then dress up in his clothes, and see if I can get into the house. As there are two tribes engaged, one would have more chance of passing unsuspected than if they all knew each other personally. At any rate, it must be risked. I know the Indian ways pretty well, and might pass muster, but you would have no chance, señor."

When they dismounted Antonio said:

"We had better leave our jackets and sombreros here; their outline would show on the darkest night that we were not Indians."

Before leaving the raft Will had obtained from one of the head men a pair of the Mexican fringed leggings, as their own white trousers would betray him at once, and now, with a dark blanket thrown over his shoulder, he might at a short distance be easily mistaken for an Indian. He had already left his riding-boots behind him, and had obtained a pair of moccasins from one of the peons.

"I will lead the way, señor, as I know every foot of the ground," Antonio said.

Moving along noiselessly they came down upon the huts of the white employés of the hacienda. As there were no fires burning here, they had but slight fear of encountering any of the Indians. Each, however, carried a long knife ready for instant action. They had left their rifles and pistols behind them, for if it was necessary to fight, the combat must be a silent one.

They crossed to the clump of bushes of which Antonio had spoken.

"You stop outside, señor; it is of no use two of us making our way into the tangle."

As he parted the bushes before entering, a slight sound was heard.

"Good! there is someone here," he muttered; and then, making his way a few paces forward, he uttered Sancho's name. There was no reply, and he repeated it in a louder tone. At once there was a low reply: "Here am I. Is it you, Tonio?"

"Yes; I have come to look for you. I thought you would have made a bee-line here as soon as you heard the red-skins."

"You were right, and there are two peons here. We were just going to start to make our way down to the river. Are you alone?"

"I have the young señor with me."

"That is good. I was afraid that we had all been wiped out."

In a couple of minutes the four men emerged from the bushes.

"I am glad to see that you are safe, Sancho," Will said warmly. "Now can you tell me what has happened?"

"I know nothing whatever, señor. I was eating my breakfast when I heard a sudden yell, and knew that it was the Apache war-whoop, and that there must be a big force of them. There was evidently no fighting to be done, so I caught up my rifle and pistols and made for the bush. These two peons who were outside followed me. I told them to hide as best they could, and I went on into the pool, found a good place under some thick bushes, hid my powder-horn and weapons handy for use close by, and lay down with my head out of water, listening. Already they were down at the huts, and I heard the cries of the peons they caught there. Luckily I was the only Mexican above. A few shots were fired up at the hacienda, and I thought I heard screams, but, owing to the yells of the Indians, I could not be sure. Presently it all died away. I don't fancy they suspected that anyone had got away, the attack being so sudden; at any rate, they made no search here. I made up my mind to lie down till most of them would be asleep and then to make for the river, and I told the peons that we must each shift for ourselves, as we had more chances of getting away singly than if together." All this was spoken in a low voice.

"The principal thing that I wanted to ask you is, do you know whether the señorita was killed, or whether they have kept her to carry off? But, of course, you don't know."

"They would not kill her," the man said confidently; "but so far as I know, they have not even caught her. I was at the stables maybe half an hour before the señorita came down and had her horse saddled. She had a basket with her, and told me she was going to ride up the valley to that wigwam that remained when the Indians went away, carrying as much meat as their ponies could take. There were an old Indian and his wife left there—she had got a fever or something, and was too ill to travel, and the señorita was going to take a basket of food and some medicine that the padre had made up for the old man. I have been thinking of her all day. I should say she was coming back when the red-skins rode up the valley after the cattle. She could hardly have helped seeing them, and I wondered whether she would take to the trees and ride on this way until after they had passed, or whether she had turned and ridden on. If she did the first, she is pretty sure to have been captured when she got down near home; if she went the other way, she gave them a mighty long chase, for there is not a horse on the estate as fast as hers, and as for the Indian ponies, she could leave them behind as if they were standing still."

"Thank God, there is a hope, then!" Will exclaimed. "Now we must move farther off and chat it over."

When they had gone a quarter of a mile from the house they stopped. Antonio told the two peons that the rafts had started fully two hours before. "The current is only about a mile and a half an hour, and if you cross the river and keep on, you ought to catch them up before morning, and can then swim off to them. Don't keep this side of the river, there are red-skins on the bank; but if you stay on this side of the valley, among the trees, down to the river, you will meet none of them. We have come that way."

The peons at once started.

"Now, señor, will you go on to where the horses are? Sancho and I will go back to the house; he understands the Apache language. We will crawl up near the fires, and I should think that we are pretty certain to hear if they have caught the señorita or not. However, we may be some time, so do not be anxious, and don't move if you hear a sudden row, for we might miss you in the dark. We shall make straight to this tree, and for a bit my horse must carry double; you had better hand your jacket to Señor Harland, Sancho, and take his blanket."

"How far are the horses?"

"There are three of them about two hundred yards farther on."

"I will go there first, then," the man said. "This is a terrible business, señor."

"Terrible, indeed. I am afraid there is no doubt that Donna Sarasta has lost her life."

"I reckon," the man said, "that except ourselves and any you may have with you, there ain't a dozen alive in the valley; it is a clean wipe out. I never knew a worse surprise. How about the party by the river?"

Antonio related what had taken place there.

"Well, that is something saved," he said, "and with sixteen of us all well armed we can manage to make a decent fight of it. We must get another horse, but that won't be very difficult; most of the others are sure to have their lassos with them, there are a score of horses running loose on the plains, and they cannot have roped them all in yet."

When they reached the horses he went on: "You had better stop here, Tonio; you are not accustomed, as I am, to them Injuns, and as you don't know much of their lingo, you would not understand much of their talk. I would much rather go alone."

"All right, old man!" the other said.

"Now for my toilet," Sancho went on; and, going up to one of the horses, he pricked it with his knife. "Steady, boy, steady!" he said, as the horse plunged.

"It is for your good as well as mine, for you would not find life in an Indian village as pleasant as the life you have been used to." He dipped his fingers in the blood, drew a broad line across his forehead and round his eyes, placed a patch on his cheek; then he cut off two handfuls of long hair from the animal's tail, tied these together with string and fastened them in his hair, so that the horse-hair fell down on to his shoulder on each side and partially hid his face.

"It is rough," he said, "but it will pass in the darkness. It is lucky you have got a 'Pache blanket; that will help me wonderfully."

"Yes; I bought it from the Indians when they traded here a few weeks since. The man I got it of said that he had traded a good pony for it when he was hunting in the spring on the other side of the river."

"I will take your rifle, Tonio," Sancho said. "I must either have that or a bow and arrow. Now, good-bye!"

Without another word he turned and strolled away towards the hacienda. It was nearly two hours before he returned.

"The señorita has got away so far," he said. "The red-skins came across her half-way up the valley; she turned and rode straight up; a dozen well-mounted men were sent after her. I heard that they sent so many because they were afraid that they might fall in with a party of the Genigueh Indians, who would certainly attack them at once."

"Thank God!" Will exclaimed fervently. "There is a chance of saving her, after all, for if they overtake her—and they won't do that for some time—we can attack them as they come back again."

"Now let us join the others at once, and make up the valley."

During the time Sancho had been away he had been questioning Antonio as to the extent of the valley.

"It goes a long way into the heart of the mountains, señor, but none of us know it beyond what we have learned from the Indians, for we were strictly forbidden to go beyond the boundary for fear of disturbing the game in the Indian country. They say that it runs three hours' fast riding beyond our bounds. After that it becomes a mere ravine, but it can be followed up to the top of the hill, and from there across a wild country, until at last the track comes down on a ford on the Colorado. From there there is a track leading west at the foot of the San Francisco Mountain, and coming down on the Little Colorado, close to the Moquis country."

"How far would that be from here?" Will asked.

"I have never been across there, señor, and I doubt whether any white man has—not on that line. I should think that from what the Indians say it must be some fifty miles from the end of our part of the valley to the ford of the Colorado, and from there to the Little Colorado it must be one hundred and fifty miles in a straight line, perhaps two hundred by the way the track goes—that is to say, if there is a track that anyone can follow. These tracks mostly run pretty straight, so that I should say that it would be about as far to the Moquis country as it would be to San Diego from here; however, we may be sure that we are not going to make such a journey as that; the Apaches are not likely to follow her farther than the end of this valley, or at most to the Colorado ford."

As they rode along Will learned from Sancho how he had obtained the news.

"There was no difficulty about that," the other said carelessly. "I waited till the fires were a bit low, and then sauntered about near those of a party of the Tejunas, and heard them talking about it. I learned that they had, as they believed, wiped out all our people except those who crossed the river on rafts, and the señorita, though they allowed that a few of the men with the herds might have got away, and they were going to search the valley thoroughly to-morrow. Not a soul in the hacienda escaped. The red-skins were exultant over the amount of booty they had taken, and were glad that the cattle were amply sufficient for both tribes, so that there would be no cause for dispute as to the division; and were specially pleased with the stores of flour and goods of all kinds in the magazines."

When they joined the main body Sancho was heartily welcomed by his comrades, who were delighted to hear that there was at least a chance of saving the señorita, of whom all hands on the estate were fond. It was arranged at once that Sancho should ride by turns behind the others, and then they started at a gallop up the valley, keeping close within the edge of the trees that covered the hillside.

THE PURSUIT

But few words were spoken until the party arrived at a spot where the valley began to narrow in near the boundary of the ranch. They were now considerably beyond the Indian fires.

"There is no fear of our meeting with any of the red devils now," Sancho said. "They know well enough that our Indians would not venture to attack them, and that there are no other enemies near. A quarter of a mile and we shall be at the wigwam where the señorita went this morning."

"We will stop there for a moment," Will said; "it is not likely that we shall find anything that will give us useful information, but at any rate the horses may as well have a short rest there as well as anywhere else."

They had come fifteen miles now at a smart pace.

The men all dismounted. One of them struck a light with his flint and steel, and then lit the end of a short coil of cord that had been soaked in saltpetre, and waved it round his head till it burst into a flame. As they expected, they found the two Indians lying dead; both had been tomahawked and then scalped. On the ground lay a broken medicine bottle and a portion of some soft pudding.

"That does not tell us much," Will said.

Sancho made no answer, but looked all round the wigwam. "The basket is not here," he said. "I noticed that it was pretty full."

"I suppose the red-skins took it, Sancho?"

"They would not bother about a basket; it is the last thing they would think of taking. My idea is that the señorita came back here. I expect she came to warn the Indians. She would, to begin with, if she rode at full speed, have distanced the 'Paches, who would not be able to get through the herd, which must have been between them and her when she first saw them. If she were half-way down the valley she might have been here some minutes before them. Of course the two old Indians knew that there was no escape for them, and made no effort to avoid their fate. I expect they had only taken that pudding and medicine out of the basket when she got back. Now, seeing that the basket and all that was in it are gone, it seems to me possible enough that the señorita may have caught it up and ridden off with it, knowing that she had a long ride before her, and through a country where there are no posadas."

"I hope, indeed, that it may be so, Sancho, for I have been wondering what she would do if she were lost in these mountains. What would she be likely to put in the basket?"

"I handed it up to her, señor, when she had mounted; there were two bottles of milk, a bottle of wine, and a pile of cakes. There were a few other things, but I did not notice what they were."

"I only hope that your idea is correct, Sancho; it would be a great comfort to know that she had enough provisions to last her for two or three days."

"I expect you will find that it is so, señor; the señorita is quick-witted and cool. I saw her once when a dozen bulls stampeded when we were trying to drive them into the yard; she was sitting her horse a short distance from the gate, and was just in their line. She didn't try to dash aside across their path, as many would have done, but turned and started, keeping her horse in at first, and then letting him out gradually and edging off out of their line, and she came cantering back laughing as she joined her father, who was looking pale as death at the danger she had been in. I have very little doubt that it has been as I said; she galloped at first at full speed, then when she got near this hut she saw that she was well ahead of the red-skins. She rode up here, jumped off to warn the Indians, and when she found they would not go she took the basket, knowing the things could be of no use to them, and might be worth a hundred times their weight in gold to her. Maybe the old Indian may have suggested it to her; at any rate, I feel sure she took them."

"Well, we will ride steadily on. Is there any place where she could have left the valley?"

"Not beyond this, señor; at least, I know of none; but, as I told you, we know very little of the valley beyond this point. Certainly she could have known no path; no doubt she went straight on. Well mounted as she was, she would feel sure that the red-skins could not overtake her, and I expect she did not press her horse much, but contented herself with keeping out of rifle-shot. I don't know whether she knew of the ford across the river, but she would naturally plunge in at the point where the track comes down on it, and would, no doubt, be surprised at finding that the horse was able to cross without swimming."

"She would not be able to turn, after she had crossed, and come down on the opposite bank?"

"No, señor; that would not be possible; there are high mountains there, and the river at some places runs through deep gorges."

"How far do you think the Apaches would follow?"

"I think that they would keep on for some distance beyond the river; when they found at last that they had no chance of catching her, they might turn and come back and cross the river, and camp on this side. By that time their horses would be done for; you see, they most likely had a long ride yesterday; maybe they were travelling all night, and, of course, it gave the señorita an immense advantage that her horse was fresh, while theirs had anyhow a great deal taken out of them before they set out in pursuit. I should recommend that we halt, as soon as it becomes light, in some clump of trees and wait for them as they come back. We are pretty well matched in numbers, and with the advantage of a surprise we ought to be able to wipe them out altogether. We might go as far as we can up the valley to the point where it becomes a mere ravine, before daylight breaks, and our horses will be all the better for a rest of a few hours. They will have gone over forty miles since they left the river, and we may probably have a very long journey to do again to-morrow. There is no saying how far the señorita may have gone; she would not know whether the red-skins might not follow all night, and I should think that she would keep on till daybreak, though, of course, she would only go at a walk."

"It is difficult to say what she is most likely to do."

"It is, indeed, señor; if I myself were in her place I should be puzzled. I should reckon that all in the valley had been wiped out. The red-skins would assuredly first make a rush for the hacienda, because it was most important that they should carry that before the men could rally round and make a defence. I should reckon that the red-skins would remain there for four or five days before they had jerked as much meat as they could carry, and that, when they started, a party would like enough be placed in ambush to catch me as I came back. I should know that it was next to hopeless to try and find my way down across such mountains as there are ahead, through which, so far as I know, there are no tracks, and I am not sure that I should not push on in hopes of reaching the Moquis, who are peaceful Indians, as I have heard, with their villages perched on the top of hills, and having flocks and herds, and being in all ways different from all the other tribes except the Zunis.

"The red-skins say that these people were here before them, and that they really belong to the tribes of Central Mexico, and came from there long before the white man ever set foot in America. From there one could travel north, strike the Santa Fé trail, and possibly make one's way through safely, though the Navajoes are pretty nearly as bad there as the Apaches are here. Whether the señorita has ever heard of the Moquis I cannot say, but if she finds that she is on a trail she will follow it, thinking anything better than going back and falling into the hands of the Apaches."

"Are there any other tribes she would have to pass through on the way?"

"I think not. It is a great mountain track, where even red-skins could not pick up a living. As far as I have heard, the track from the ford leads through a series of passes between lofty hills. It is not the course of a river, and, therefore, there are not likely to be any villages. I should say that there would be forest on the lower slopes, and we are sure to meet with enough game to keep us."

They now proceeded at a walk, for the trees in most places grew thickly, and the ground here and there was broken by boulders that had rolled down from the hillside. At last they came to a point where the valley was but a hundred yards wide. Here they halted, took off the horses' bridles to allow them to pick what grass there was, and threw themselves down, and most of them were asleep in a few minutes.

"Is it necessary to keep watch?" Will said.

"No, señor, the 'Paches will assuredly not start to come back until morning. The country is as strange to them as it is to us. I should say, from what I have heard, it is about ten miles from the river, and in an hour or an hour and a half after daylight they are likely to be here."

Will took a seat by the trunk of a tree. He had no inclination for sleep. His thoughts were busy with the girl—alone in these mountains with an unknown country before her and a band of relentless savages who might, for aught she knew, be still pressing after her. It was difficult to conceive a more terrible situation. She might lose the trail, which was sure to be a faintly-marked one, and in some places indistinguishable save to an eye accustomed to tracking. If so, her fate was sealed. She must wander about till she died of hunger and thirst. It was maddening to be waiting there even for an hour or two and to know that she was alone. As soon as daylight broke, Sancho sent four of the men back to hunt for game. If they did not come upon something in the course of three-quarters of an hour, they were to return. They had been gone, however, half that time when the crack of a rifle was heard, and ten minutes later they rode back, bringing with them a stag they had shot. Already a fire had been lighted one hundred yards behind the camping-ground. Antonio had collected some perfectly dry wood for the purpose.

"There will be no smoke to speak of," he said to Will, "and what little there is will make its way out through the leaves. It is unlikely in the extreme that the Indians will notice it, and if they do, they will think that it is a fire made by one of our Indians."

A couple of the hunters at once set about skinning and cutting up the carcass. They were to go on cooking it until a signal was made to them that the Indians were approaching. The horses had now been collected, and the men disposed themselves behind trunks of trees, each with his horse a few yards behind him. All these were well trained to stand still when the reins were thrown over their heads. In front of them was a clear space some thirty yards across. After half an hour's anxious waiting, Sancho, who was lying with his ear to the ground, raised his hand as a signal that he could hear the Indians coming. The men from the fire ran up and took their places with the rest. The rifles were thrown forward in readiness. All could now hear the dull tread of the horses, with an occasional sharper sound as the hoofs fell upon rock. As the Apaches rode out from the wood their leader suddenly checked his horse with a warning cry, but it was too late.

Sixteen rifles flashed out, half the Apaches fell, and before the others could recover from their surprise at this unexpected attack the vaqueros charged down upon them. Hopelessly outnumbered as they were, the Apaches fought desperately, but the combat was short. The pistols of Will and Sancho were used with deadly effect, and in a couple of minutes the fight was over and the last Indian had fallen.

"Now, let us waste no time," Will said. "Ten minutes must do for our breakfast; then we will be off."

None of the party was seriously hurt, and the wounds were soon bandaged. The joints hanging above the fire were soon taken down, cut into slices, and grilled. They were being eaten when four Indians stepped from among the trees, one of them being evidently a chief.

"You are breaking the rules," he said to Will, whom he recognized as the leader of the party. "We shall lay a complaint before the great master."

Will did not answer, but Antonio, who spoke their language fairly, replied, "Have you not heard the news?"

"We have heard no news," the chief said. "We heard a gun fire when we were hunting two miles down the valley. We came to see what it was. Then we heard many guns, and, not knowing what it could be, hid our horses and came on."

"Then do you not know that there are three or four hundred Apaches and Tejunas in the valley below; that the hacienda has been attacked, all within it killed, and that the herds have been destroyed? So far as we know, we alone have escaped."

The Indians uttered deep exclamations of surprise.

"What was the firing?" the chief asked.

"If you go on a hundred yards farther up, you will find the dead bodies of twenty Apache braves; they have been riding in pursuit of Donna Clara, the daughter of the señor, who was fortunately at your end of the valley, having gone there with food and medicine for the old Indian of your tribe who was too ill to leave with the rest, a fortnight since."

"I saw her often then," the chief said, "and this young brave"—and he motioned to Will—"he was often in our camp, and the girl visited our wigwams and gave many little presents to our women. Did she escape them?"

"She did, but where she is we know not. We are going in search of her. If you and your warriors will go with us, we shall be glad, for your eyes are better than ours, and could follow the footmarks of her horse where we should see nothing."

"Teczuma, with one of his warriors, will go," the chief said. "The other two must go and carry the news to our people, and, though they are not strong enough to fight so large a force, yet they will not be idle, and many of the Apaches and Tejunas will lose their scalps before they cross the river again."

He spoke a few words to the three men, who at once left, and in ten minutes one returned with two horses. The chief had already eaten two slices of deer's flesh, and he mounted and rode on with the others, while his follower waited for a minute to eat the flesh that had already been cooked for him. Sancho had chosen the horse that had been ridden by the Apache chief, and, without stopping, they rode on until they were, a few minutes later, joined by the other Indian. They now pushed on rapidly, ascending the ravine, and on reaching the top Will saw with satisfaction that high hills on both sides bordered what was, in fact, a pass between them, and that Clara must therefore have kept on straight.

The chief with his follower rode a little ahead of the others, Will, with Antonio and Sancho, following closely behind him. Once or twice the chief pointed down to marks on the rocks, with the remark, "A shod horse".

"That is all right," Antonio said. "The Indians do not shoe their horses, so we may be sure it was the señorita."

The path soon began to descend again, and in an hour from the time of starting they emerged from the pass within one hundred yards of the river; the ground here being soft, a well-marked track was visible.

"Made by our people," the chief said, turning round. "They often cross ford to hunt on the other side—large forests there, two hours' ride away—good hunting-ground. Apache not come there. Hills too big to cross."

Beyond the river the track was for some time perfectly distinct, but it presently became fainter. However, as the Indians rode on rapidly, Will had no doubt that, although he could not see the tracks on the ground, they were plain enough to the eyes of the Indians.

"It is a mighty good job we have the chief with us," Antonio said. "The trail is plain enough at present, but it is sure to get fainter when we get into these forests they speak of. Probably it goes straight enough there, but once among the trees it will break up, as the Indians would scatter to hunt. We should have lost a lot of time following it. Now we have got these two red-skin fellows, they will pick it up almost as fast as we can ride."

The road, indeed, after passing over a rocky plateau, dipped suddenly down into a deep valley running up from the river, and extending as far as one could see almost due east among the hills. The track they were following turned to the right at the foot of the hill. For miles it was clearly defined, then gradually became fainter, as the Indians who had followed it turned off in search of game. The footprints of the shod horse continued straight up the valley, until, ten miles from the point at which they had entered it, they turned to the left.

"It has been going at a walk for some miles," the chief said, "and the white girl has been walking beside it. I saw her footprints many times. We shall find that she halted for the night at the little stream in the middle of the valley. It must have been getting dark when she arrived here. She must be a good horsewoman and have a good horse under her, for it is nearly eighty miles from here to the hacienda."

By the stream, indeed, they found the place where Clara had slept. The Indian pointed to spots where the horse had cropped the grass by the edge of the stream, and where it had at last lain down near its mistress, who had, as a few crumbs showed, eaten some of the cakes.

"I wonder we don't see one of the bottles," Will remarked.

Antonio translated his remarks to the chief, who said, "Girl wise; fill bottle with water; not know how far stream come. We halt here; cannot follow trail farther; soon come dark."

This was evident to them all; men and horses alike needed rest. They lit a fire and sat around it for a short time; all were encouraged by the success so far, and even the fact that they were supperless did not affect them.

"Teczuma and Wolf go out and find game in the morning," the chief said confidently. "Plenty of game here."

Long before the others were awake, indeed, the chief and his follower were moving. Just as daylight broke, the latter ran into camp.

"Come," he said, "bring gun; grizzly coming down valley. Teczuma watch him."

The men were on their feet the instant Antonio translated the Indian's words, and followed the Indian on foot.

"Was the bear too much for the two Indians?" Will asked Sancho.

"If they had been alone they would have fought it, but the chief was right to send for us. It was like enough they might have got badly hurt, and that would have been a bad thing for us."

Presently the Indian stopped. It was still twilight under the trees, but they could make out a great gray form advancing towards them. When within twenty yards it scented danger, and stopped with an angry growl. Almost at the same moment a rifle flashed out behind a tree near its flank. With a furious growl it turned, exposing its flank to the watchers. Antonio had warned five of these not to fire; the other ten rifles were fired simultaneously, and the bear rolled over and over. It scrambled to its feet again, and stood rocking itself, evidently wounded to death. The other five men ran forward together, and when three yards distant poured in their fire, and the bear fell dead. The vaqueros lost no time in skinning it. A portion of the flesh was carried to the fire, cut up into strips, and at once cooked. As soon as the meal was finished, the rest of the meat was cut off and divided between the party, who then mounted and rode on, the two Indians again leading the way.