As the Indians swept by us, like a whirlwind, Jerry exclaimed, “Them ain’t nothin’ but a pack of thieves, tryin’ to stampede our stock. If ther boys tied them mules squar, they hain’t made nothin’ out ’er us, that’s sartain. You youngsters ’d better show yourselves, for there ain’t no more danger to-night.”

At the sound of Jerry’s voice, the boys came out from under the wagon, both looking exceedingly foolish.

“I’ll never get under a wagon again, if you do order me to,” said Hal, turning towards Jerry. “It was a shame to send me under there when I wasn’t scart a particle.”

“Oh! you wasn’t, hey? Wal, I’m glad to hear you say that, for mebbe you won’t object to go down and count ther stock; for I’ve an idée that we shall find just about ez many mules gone ez you tied up, young man.”

“I was scart, and I don’t deny it,” said Ned; “but I’ll go down and see about the mules, Jerry.”

“Bless you! don’t yer trouble yerself one mite, I’m going myself, now,” said Jerry.

An examination of our stock showed that, notwithstanding the care taken in securing them, seven mules were missing; and that, as Jerry surmised, they were the ones that had been tied by the boys.

“I wonder how many Magoffin’s folks hev lost,” said Jerry.

“I believe I’ll walk over to the camp and ascertain.”

“I wish you would,” said Jerry; “and, judge, ef they’ve lost any, and will let me hev twenty men, I’ll fetch every one o’ the critters back afore ter-morrow night at this time, or you may call old Jerry a liar, and that’s what no man ever done yet, that’s sartin.”

“Do you really think it can be done, Jerry?”

“I’m sartin of it,” was the confident reply.

“Well, I’ll go over and talk with Magoffin; and, if he’s lost any stock and will lend us the men, I’ve no objection to your making the attempt.”

“You bet, judge, he’ll see for himself, that them cussed varmints won’t hev more’n four hours the start; an’, ef he’ll let us hev the men, we kin ketch ’em, sartin.”

I visited Magoffin’s camp, and found it, like our own, in some confusion. I ascertained, however, that Magoffin himself was not with the train, which was in charge of his major-domo, or head man, Don Ignacio. Him I sought and learned that between twenty and thirty of their mules were missing. I then briefly stated Jerry’s proposition, to which Don Ignacio immediately assented, offering to accompany the expedition himself.

Word was sent to Jerry; and, half an hour afterwards, when I reached camp, I found him ready for a start.

Hal and Ned were both extremely anxious to go; but Jerry would not hear to it for a moment, declaring they must remain and take charge of camp during our absence.

The sun was just peeping above the eastern horizon when the party from Magoffin’s appeared. They were all Mexicans, each man provided with three days’ rations, which consisted of about a quart of atole [Wheat and brown sugar ground together and dried. A small quantity mixed with cold water makes a very pleasant and nutritious meal.] and a piece of jerked beef, securely fastened behind their saddles with their blankets. Every man was armed with a rifle and two revolvers, and carried, besides, forty rounds of ammunition in his belt.

A delay of a few moments only, and we were off.

We soon struck the Comanches’ trail and followed it in a north-easterly direction for three or four hours, when Jerry turned to me and said,

“I was afraid of this, judge. Them varmints hev struck a ‘bee-line’ for the Pecos; and if we don’t ketch ’em afore they cross it and git into the Llano, [The Llano Estacado, or staked plain; a favorite resort of the Comanches. It is about four thousand feet above the level of the ocean, and entirely destitute of wood and water.] that’s the end on ’em, as fur as we’re concarned, so I reckon we’d best hurry on.”

Uttering the single word, ‘Adelante!’ or ‘Forward!’ we started in a brisk canter. It was a beautiful morning and the trail was easily followed.

Our animals were fresh, and everything appeared favorable for the success of our expedition, especially as we realized that the progress of the Indians must necessarily be somewhat impeded by the large number of animals they were driving before them.

The trail followed the course of the river for several miles in the direction of the Concho Springs; but, at last, turned abruptly to the left, and commenced the ascent of the great “divide” which separates the waters of the Pecos from the headwaters of the San Pedro, leading us directly towards the former stream.

For many hours we rode, hoping each moment to obtain a sight of the Indians. No stops were made, except to permit our animals to drink a few swallows from the streams we crossed, or when we removed the saddle and bridle and gave them an opportunity to enjoy a roll in the tall grass through which we passed; and as twilight settled around us, both men and animals began to show unmistakable signs of fatigue, and it became evident that we must halt for rest and supper. While discussing the subject with Jerry, he suddenly grasped my bridle-rein, and pointed out a bright speck on the distant horizon.

“St! there they be!” he exclaimed. “That’s them. The fools didn’t ’spect ter be follered, and they’ve lighted some rosin weeds ter cook their supper with. We’ve got ’em, sartin.”

A halt was ordered; and, in an incredibly short time, our animals were picketed, Jerry and Don Ignacio had started out for a reconnoissance of the Comanche camp, and the men were enjoying a hearty supper.

I was greatly amused to see the facility with which they accommodated themselves to the situation. No sooner were their suppers eaten and cigarettes smoked, than, wrapping their blankets around their shoulders, with their saddles for pillows, they one after another dropped off to sleep; and, in a short time, I was the only one of the party awake.

While I listened for the sound of Jerry’s return; ascending a slight eminence, I watched the glow of the Comanche camp-fire in the distance, and almost persuaded myself that it was a light in the window of some settler’s dwelling, rather than an Indian encampment.

At length the low, delighted neigh of his pony, which, with my own, had been picketed near the spot where I was reclining, warned me that his master was not far away. I soon heard his voice as he spoke to the animal in passing; and, a moment later, the men stood beside me.

Jerry reported that they ventured near enough to the camp to look into it. He had counted eleven Indians. Five of them were guarding the animals. Near the camp was the carcass of a mule, which the savages had undoubtedly killed for food. The remainder of the party were evidently gorged with mule meat, and sleeping soundly.

Both were satisfied that, by the exercise of proper caution, we should have no difficulty in surprising the Indians. It was thought best for our animals to remain where they were, with a few men to guard them, and for the rest of the party to go on foot to the camp, which was about two miles distant.

The men were awakened, arms carefully examined, and five were detailed to remain with the animals. The remainder of the party was then divided into two companies. One was placed under charge of Jerry, the other under Don Ignacio.

Our orders were to move forward as quietly and expeditiously as possible until we came within half a mile of the Indian camp; then to separate. Jerry’s party was to attempt the recapture of the stock. The other was to pay its respects to the camp itself.

Nothing was to be done, however, until ample time had passed to enable each man to reach the position assigned him. Then, upon a signal from Jerry, which was to be the bark of a coyote, or prairie wolf, three times repeated, the attack was to be made. After the signal, every man was expected to take care of himself.

The preliminaries arranged, the men one after another disappeared in the darkness as they moved forward to the attack, until finally Don Ignacio and myself were left alone. Motioning me to follow him, he led the way to the top of a slight elevation, where we dropped upon our faces and peered over into the enemy’s camp.

With the aid of my glasses, by the uncertain, flickering light of their fire, I could see every object in the camp distinctly.

One Indian was bending over the coals, as though in the act of warming himself; while, about the fire, lay five others, wrapped in their blankets, and evidently fast asleep.

A little distance below them, I could just discern the dark outline of the herd, quietly feeding. It was evident that they neither knew nor dreamed of pursuit.

It was a splendid night: not a cloud was to be seen; and, although there was no moon, the heavens were thickly studded with stars. No sound disturbed the profound silence that reigned about us, as we waited and listened for the signal that was to decide our fate. How many voices, before another hour, might be hushed in death? I asked myself the question, but there came no answer.

Suddenly, the stillness was disturbed by the quick, snarling yelp of a coyote, so natural, that, for an instant, I persuaded myself it was the creature itself and not old Jerry. Again I heard it, seemingly more distinct and nearer than before. Would it be repeated?

My heart almost ceased to beat as I asked the question, and I held my breath in my anxiety to hear. Will it ever come?

Ah, yes! there it is: quick, sharp, and unmistakable, followed by the report of a single rifle.

The next instant, the sound of a dozen shots burst upon the air, mingled with the terrible, unearthly yell of the Comanche war-whoop, and we all rushed forward pell-mell for the camp, through the whizzing of arrows, the ping of bullets, the shouts of Mexicans, and the yells of Indians.

It was such a scene of excitement that I hardly knew what I was doing, although I fully realized we were in the Indian camp: before I had time to do more than this, I saw Jerry coming towards me. As he came up, he said, in tones that carried cheer with them,

“Well, Judge, we’re in luck; fifty mules and two varmints is a pretty good night’s work. How many hev you got up here?”

An examination revealed three dead bodies in camp, making in all, five Indians killed. The remainder had managed to escape in the darkness. We quickly despoiled the camp; giving the plunder to the men, and leaving the dead bodies behind us.

But two of our party were injured and they slightly by arrows. Upon reaching camp their wounds were carefully dressed; after which we partook of a slight lunch, and were ready to start for our camp on the banks of the Nucces, when Don Ignacio came to me, saying, that, as his presence was really very necessary in camp, with my permission, he would take his men leaving enough behind to assist in driving the stock and hurry on.

This would not inconvenience us, and enable him to arrive in camp several hours earlier than ourselves.

Jerry at once acquiesced in the arrangement, saying that three men, besides ourselves, would be all we should require.

Don Ignacio detailed that number to remain with us; and, with the balance of the party, left us.

We made very fair progress during the night; and, when morning dawned, were a long distance on our road.

An hour or two after daylight, old Jerry’s keen eye detected, upon an elevation in the distance, a party of three Comanches. We were in hope that they would not discover us at first; but it soon became evident that they had seen us, for one of their number turned and rode towards us, waving a blanket in the air. This, Jerry said, was indicative of a desire for a parley.

After a short conference together, Jerry decided it was better for us to ride out and meet the party, rather than permit them to join us.

We accordingly prepared for the expedition, giving the Mexicans instructions to proceed quietly with the stock.

As we approached the Indians, their leader, an old man apparantly about sixty years of age, with a singularly cunning and wicked looking countenance, came towards us and extended his hand for a shake; while, with much solemnity, he announced himself as Cuchillo, a Comanche chief, and a great friend of the whites.

While Jerry was conversing with the old fellow in Spanish, I made myself familiar with the general appearance of the party. They were dressed each with a buffalo rug thrown over his left shoulder in such a manner as to allow it to sweep the ground behind him. They wore moccasins on their feet, made of buckskin, with a heavy fringe or tassels pendant from the seam behind, long enough to permit it to drag upon the ground. These, with leggins made from a piece of blanket, which was wrapped about the leg below the knee and fastened with a thong of buckskin, heavily fringed, and the breechcloth, completed the dress.

Each was painted in a most hideous manner, in ochre and vermilion mixed with a whitish clay.

Cuchillo shortly produced a well-worn greasy paper from a small bag he wore around his neck, which he handed me, making a sign that I was to read it.

It was as follows:

“The Bearer, Cuchillo, is a Comanche Chief, who says he is a friend of the White’s. My advice is not to Trust him, or any other sneakin’ varmint like him. Bill Pope.”

I handed the paper to Jerry; who, after reading it, gave it back to its owner with the remark, it was muncho bueno, or very good.

The chief received it with a smile; and, as he returned it to the little bag, remarked,

“Very good, me bueno amigo” (good friend).

“P’raps yer be,” remarked Jerry, in English, “but yer ain’t ther sort I hanker arter. I reckon we may as well shake hands, old feller, ’cause we must be a-goin’, an’ you an’ me hain’t got no use for one another, no how.”

But our Comanche friends were not to be shaken off, so easily; for, even after bidding them good by, Cuchillo insisted upon accompanying us; and, rather than betray any fear, or show that we distrusted him, Jerry was obliged to make a virtue of necessity, and assent to the proposition with as good a grace as possible.

It was evident that curiosity at least was one of the motives that actuated the Indians; for, upon overtaking our herd, they looked about them, evidently expecting to see a larger party with us, and expressing surprise at the quantity of stock we were driving.

Jerry informed them that we had a large company a few hours’ ride to the north; and had been out purchasing some stock from another party, who were encamped to the south of us a few miles.

This information seemed to cause them some surprise; for they asked many questions concerning the strength of this last party, its destination, etc., all of which Jerry answered in a straightforward manner, to their evident satisfaction.

Cuchillo was very curious in regard to our revolvers, of which each man in our party had two, in addition to his rifle, and at last we determined to show them that we were well armed, and ready for any emergency. I set up a small mark at the distance of sixty or seventy feet; and Jerry immediately emptied, in rapid succession, the contents of both revolvers, without stopping to reload. This caused the greatest astonishment; and, in a short time, they began to manifest a disposition to leave. With many professions of friendship, Jerry endeavored to persuade them to accompany us to our camp; but they declined, promising to visit us on the morrow; and, after a most affectionate farewell, Cuchillo and his braves left us, riding towards the south-west.

“There,” exclaimed Jerry, as soon as they were fairly off, “ef there don’t go as sneakin’ a varmint as there is in the whole Comanche nation, I’ll lose my guess. They’ll go for that air camp to the southward, expectin’ to find some greenhorns; and I only hope they may find ’em. The thing for us to do is to git our cattle into camp ez soon as possible. We kin hurry ’em some, and I reckon we’d better do it.”

We made good progress for a couple of hours; and, on reaching the top of a “divide,” saw a large emigrant wagon drawn by three yoke of oxen, slowly making its way through the tall bottom grass of the valley beneath us, surrounded by quite a number of men on horseback.

“Hurrah!” cried Jerry, “there’s friends. This is the fust party we’ve seen out on the plains since we left San Antonio. We mustn’t let ’em go by without overhaulin’ ’em.”

We soon came up with them; and they proved to be Capt. Blodget and four companions from Missouri, on the way to Fort Davis, accompanied by an Arapahoe Indian as guide.

We were, of course, delighted to meet with Americans, and eagerly questioned them as to their adventures on the road; but they had seen no Indians; having, by the advice of their guide, kept a few miles away from the main travelled route, on account of there being less liability of meeting the prowling bands, who generally followed the course of the road, in expectation of more successfully conducting their thieving operations.

We soon parted with our new friends, and set out once more on our way to the Nueces.