At my request, the scout was sent for. He proved to be a keen, shrewd Yankee, who had spent the last twenty years of his life, among the mountains of New Mexico.

His statement was clear and concise, and showed a familiarity with Indian manners and habits, that entitled his opinion to great weight. After a long interview, both Lieutenant Howland and myself became convinced that Hal and Juanita were with the party he described. So positive was the lieutenant that he volunteered to send a force in pursuit early on the following morning, with Tom Pope as guide.

When this determination was announced I hastened back to camp to consult old Jerry, and found all assembled around Ned, who was repeating over and over again, the story told by Tom. Even Patsey, whom I had scarcely noticed since he joined the train, was tossing his well-worn cap in the air, catching it upon the toe of a toeless boot, while executing a lively Irish jig, and exclaiming every time he drew a long breath,

“Whoo-o-o-op! think of it now, will yez! The boss has got the byse, sure. Whoo-o-o-op now, whoo-o-op!”

In fact, all seemed delighted at the idea of our receiving even the meagre information we had obtained at the fort.

As soon as Jerry found a moment’s leisure, I gave him a detailed account of the interview with Tom Pope, as well as Lieutenant Howland’s opinion regarding it.

He expressed much satisfaction at the Lieutenant’s intention to pursue the party, and asked, if I thought the guide would object to his accompanying him on the expedition.

While talking the matter over, we saw Tom himself approaching camp. Jerry at once recognized him as an old Comanche scout, whom he had once met in Texas; and the two were soon upon the most friendly terms. It was understood, that Jerry and myself were to accompany Tom on the expedition, and finally I obtained permission to take Ned along.

I invited Tom to remain and take supper with us, and afterwards, while Jerry was making his preparations for the morrow’s expedition, Ned and Patsey asked Tom for a story; but Tom said “he warn’t no account at story tellin’ and would let that job out to somebody else.”

Remembering Jerry’s remark, that Tom was a Comanche scout, I asked him if he had had much experience with that tribe.

“Consid’rable,” answered he.

“Is it a fact, that the Comanches frequently cook their meat by placing it under the saddle and riding on it all day?” asked I.

“I ’spect ’tis,” replied Tom; “leastways, I’ve seen ’em do it, and done it myself.”

“Oh! tell us all about it Tom, will you?” cried Ned.

“Wall, I don’t mind telling you about that, youngster, though I ain’t much of a story-teller. You just wait till I get my pipe filled, and I’ll spin a yarn for you, as they used to say down in New Bedford.”

“Be gorra, now, ain’t this fun?” exclaimed Patsey, as he and Ned settled themselves in a comfortable position by the fire, to listen to

TOM’S STORY.

Having filled and lighted his pipe, he began.

“Six years ago this fall, I had been down to Mattamoras on the Rio Grande, and returning home, had camped for the night, in the ruins of an Old ranche on the San Saba. Wall, I was alone and pretty tired. I didn’t think nothin’ about Injuns, so I went ter sleep; and when I woke up I was a prisoner, with a dozen Comanches caperin’ round me.”

“I couldn’t do nothin’, ’cause they’d taken my rifle and my knife; so I jist made up my mind, that I’d better keep still and wait for my chance to come. They tied my hands behind me, and put me on a horse. Then we started, and I soon saw that they had been down into Mexico on a stealing expedition, and had had, good luck; for they had five scalps, and nearly a hundred head of Spanish mares, that they were a-driving home with ’em to their village, which was on the Clear Fork of the Brazos.”

“In ten days, we got to within about a mile of their home, and then we halted; and one of the braves, all painted and fixed up in regular war style, started in to let ’em know we were there.”

“Pretty soon one of their squaws came out to meet us, and then the Injuns, fixed to a long lance the five scalps they had taken, and we all started for the village, the squaw leading and carryin’ the scalp-pole, all the while singing a war-song.”

“Just before we got into their settlement we were met by a lot of the women folks, who joined in the procession. Then we went through the village. The squaws danced as they went along and made a great noise, singing songs about the brave deeds of their husbands and sons, who had taken so many scalps and stolen so many cattle.”

“I’d been wonderin’ all the time what they were going ter do with me. Then we stopped before the chief’s lodge, Tabba-ken, or the Big Eagle, he was called, and they motioned for me to dismount. I hadn’t hardly struck the ground, before I found what they were going to do with me; for would you believe it, every old squaw and pappoose in that village, that had strength enough, flew at me and commenced biting, and kicking, and scratching me. You see I couldn’t do much, for my hands were tied, but I made up my mind that Tom Pope would die like a man, even though he never had calculated to be bit and kicked to death, by a lot of Comanche squaws.”

“So I jest set my teeth, and stood the pain the best I was able. After a while, they got tired of the fun, and quit; but you never see such a lookin’ chap as I was when they got through. Why, there wasn’t a spot on me as big as a five-cent piece, that didn’t show some kind of a mark. I thought I had a pretty hard time in some of my travels, before, but t’warn’t no tetch ter that Comanche village. I was sore for a month after it.”

“Arter they’d got through with their fun, they set me to work and kept me at it, till I finally got away from ’em; though they treated me well enough after the first few days. When I got into Phantom Hill, the officers there told me, that they treated me as they always did all their prisoners. I had enough to eat, such as it was, and hain’t no complaints to make on that score. They had two Mexican women who were prisoners there, and old Tabba-ken himself had married one of ’em.”

“Do they have any particular ceremonies, when they start on the war-path, Tom?” asked I.

“I saw one party start out ter fight the Arapahoes; and I see ’em come back, too,” replied Tom.

“One morning I see that a lot of the braves took their bows and arrows, and placed ’em on the east side of their lodges. They was all ornamented and fixed, and set where the sun’s first rays should fall on ’em. That night a lot of the squaws commenced going around through the village, singing their war-songs, and making a great noise. They kept it up for three nights, so that I couldn’t sleep a wink; and I asked one of the Mexican women what it all meant. She told me, that it was a war-party, getting ready for an expedition.

“I’d suspected as much, when I see the braves a-cavortin’ around so lively on their horses, and makin’ such a fuss as they did.

“She said, that they worshipped the sun, and their weapons was set out there for the sun to bless, and give them good luck against their enemies. They kept up these doin’s for four or five days, and then they had a grand war-dance; and the next morning at sunrise (they always start on an expedition just at sunrise) a party of twenty braves, started off to the north.”

“Do they make the squaws work, like the other Indian tribes, Tom?” asked Ned.

“Yes! Injuns is Injuns, wherever you find ’em,” answered Tom. “The squaws allers do the hard work, and the men the heavy layin’ round and talkin’.”

“Oh! be gorra; don’t I wish I was a Injin,” exclaimed Patsey.

“Well,” continued Tom, “after I’d been with ’em a couple of months or so, they kind er got a notion that I didn’t care much about gittin’ away, and didn’t keep a very strict watch over me; so, one night, when I see Carline (that was my old rifle) lyin’ by one of the lodges, I made up my mind to scoot. They was havin’ a big time that night, gittin’ ready for another expedition, and I knew they’d be putty busy. As soon as ’twas dark, I picked up the rifle, and, kind er slowly, made my way down ter where their critters was feedin’, and picked out the best hoss of the lot, put a saddle on him, and started down the river towards the fort at Phantom Hill. ’Twas a good hundred miles away; but I made up my mind I’d fetch it, if nothin’ happened.

“I rode putty hard all night; and, just after daylight, saw some deer on the prairie, and shot one, never thinkin’ that I hadn’t another charge for my rifle, and no way of buildin’ a fire ter cook with.

“Yer see the Injuns always start a fire by rubbin’ two dry sticks together, but I hadn’t no time for that, ’cause I wanted to put as many miles as I could between me and ther village. While I was a-wonderin’ what ter do, I happened to think about puttin’ it under the saddle; so I hunted round and found a sharp stone, and managed to cut some putty fair slices out ev the leg, and clapped ’em under the saddle and rode on.

“I got pretty hungry by noon, so I stopped to let my horse eat a little, and looked at my steaks, and they was cooked just as nice as I ever see steaks cooked in my life; and they was good, too, you bet.

“I made a tip-top meal, and then thought I’d lay down and take a little nap. I slept for an hour or two, and then saddled up, and rode along. Putty soon I happened ter look round, and, blast my picter, ef there warn’t eight Comanches a-comin’ after me like the very devil.

“I just put the spurs to my hoss; and from the best calculations I could make, I made up my mind thet they’d ketch me in just about ten miles further. I see they was a-gainin’ on me, and I hadn’t nothin’ to defend myself with but a empty rifle, and that warn’t no account agin bows and arrows; so I throwed it away, and made up my mind, if wost came to wost, I’d take my chances in the river, ’cause yer see the Comanches never let a prisoner get away the second time. I kept urgin’ my hoss, and the critter kep’ tryin’, but I see he was about blowed, an’ ’twarn’t no use. I had just concluded I must take to the river, when I happened to look up and see a dozen soldiers coming right towards me. The Injuns see ’em as quick as I did, and the way they turned and put back was a caution to anything I ever see.”

“What were the soldiers doing there?” asked Ned.

“Why, they was a scoutin’ party out from the post, about twenty miles below where we was. They chased the Injuns, but the devils scattered and ’twarn’t no use.

“I went in to the fort with ’em, and stayed thar about a week, and then went down to San Antonio with Major Neighbors, the Injun agent. Afterwards, I heard that the soldiers went up and cleaned the village out, but I don’t know nothin’ about that.

“There, youngsters, you’ve hed your story, and I reckon if you’re goin’ with me to-morrow, you’d better go ter bed and git some sleep, and I’ll go back to the fort, and git ready, myself.”

Ned was delighted with Tom’s story, while Patsey declared that “he’d thry that way of cooking, steak the first blissid thing he did in the mornin’, that he would, sure.”

With the first faint streak of light in the eastern sky, our little party were on their way to the fort. We found that Lieutenant Howland had detailed a squad of twenty of the “Mounted Rifles” under command of Lieutenant Jackson, and ordered them provisions, for ten days. They were to start at sunrise, and Tom Pope was to lead them directly to the canon, where he had seen the trail, which we were to follow, until we overtook the thieves.

Promptly, as the morning gun, announced the sun’s appearance above the horizon, Lieutenant Jackson, with the dragoons, rode into the parade-ground, ready for a start. The final orders were given, and we fell into line, and rode slowly forth in the direction of the mountains, followed, not only by the good wishes of every man in the post, but by Patsey’s brogans, which he threw after us for “good luck, inyhow,” with such force that one struck a soldier in the head, and nearly knocked him out of the saddle, much to his surprise and anger, and greatly to the amusement of the spectators.

We struck into a brisk canter, and were soon out of sight of the post and settlements. Our course lay to the east of north, over an elevated, arid plain, covered with a thick growth of prickly-pear, and scrubby mesquite.

The mesquite is a shrub that somewhat resembles our locust. Its wood is hard and close-grained, and its branches bear a long, narrow pod, filled with saccharine matter, which, when ripe, furnishes a very palatable article of food, that is relished both by men and animals.

The principal value of the mesquite, however, is for its roots, which are used for fuel and very fine fuel they make, quite equal to the best hickory.

The plain over which we were now travelling, was more than four thousand feet above the level of the sea. Notwithstanding its immense elevation, it was covered with a peculiar kind of grass called grama, which retains its nutritious qualities throughout the whole year. This grass is sometimes cut by the inhabitants, who use for the purpose a hoe. It will thus be seen, that, on these plains, wood is obtained with a spade and hay secured by the hoe.

A ride of seven hours brought us to the eastern side of the mountains, whose lofty, pinnacled peaks rose above us to the height of more than three thousand feet, strangely and perfectly resembling the pipes of an immense organ, from which fact the Sierra de los Órganos takes its name.

As we approached this remarkable range, we found a thick growth of live-oak skirting its base, and could hardly resist the temptation, to enjoy the cool and delicious shade, which their thick branches afforded; but we pushed on, and in another hour reached the entrance to the canon, in which Tom had discovered the Indians’ trail. Here we found it necessary to advance with the greatest precaution, as the dark pines and evergreens, growing in the narrow defile, afforded an excellent place for the concealment of our foes.

Jerry and Tom, rode a short distance in advance of the party, and we slowly made our way up the gorge for about four hundred yards, when we came to a large reservoir, or basin, into which the water from a spring high up on the mountain-side, slowly trickled.

The guides examined this place with great care, for Tom declared it had not been disturbed since he left it, two days before. We found evidence sufficient to substantiate Tom’s opinion fully, for we discovered the tracks of three white persons, one of whom was a woman. Ned insisted that he recognized Hal’s footprints, while Jerry identified the peculiar shape of one of the mule’s tracks, by means of a shoe he himself fitted to the animal.

Satisfied at last that we were on the right trail, the lieutenant decided to halt for a short time to feed and rest.

While Ned was strolling about the encampment, he accidentally trod upon a rattlesnake, and the venomous reptile, sounding his rattle, made a spring and fastened his teeth into the boy’s pants, just below the knee. I chanced to be looking towards him at the moment, and saw him, without the least hesitation draw his sheath-knife, and sever its head from its body, with one stroke, leaving the head hanging to the leg of his pants. I hurried towards him, but the boy was not in the least disconcerted or frightened, although he could not tell if he had been bitten or not. An examination showed that the fangs of the snake had passed through the cloth and left their imprint upon the leather of his boot-leg, without penetrating it.

We all congratulated him upon his narrow escape, and Lieutenant Jackson told him that few men would have shown more nerve or presence of mind under the circumstances than he had done. Tom Pope asserted the boy was a “born Injin hunter,” and old Jerry declared that he was “willing to make a ’ception, so fur as Ned was concarned, though he’d be darned if he’d do it for t’other one; for boys like him hadn’t no bizness on the plains, no how.”

Once more mounting our horses, we emerged from the cool and grateful shade, out into the burning sunshine of the plain, when, making sure of the trail, our guides started at a brisk canter towards the north-east, followed by the entire party.

The trail was so plain and well-defined, that we were able to ride at a good round pace, which was kept up until long after the sun had set and darkness had fairly encompassed us. Finally we came to good grass, and the lieutenant ordered a halt.

Shortly after unsaddling our horses, Tom came to me, and said, “Be you pretty sure, judge, that them fellers was Comanches, that attacked you?”

I replied at once that I was.

“What makes you think so?” inquired Tom.

Up to this time I had not entertained a thought that they could be other than Comanches. Now that my reasons for the opinion had been asked, I saw that the only cause for it was the fact, that the attack had been made in the Comanche country, and so far towards the interior, that the possibility of their belonging to any other tribe had not entered my mind.

I replied, that I had no other reason for supposing them to be Comanches than the one above given.

“Well,” said Tom, “as me and Jerry was ridin’ along this arternoon, I found this ’ere thing along side ther trail, so I picked it up ter show yer.”

As he spoke, he produced an old, well-worn moccasin, which, at a glance, I recognized as having been made by the Apaches, its shape being entirely different from those manufactured or worn by any other tribe.

For an instant I was speechless, utterly overwhelmed by the terrible revelation.

I thought of the warm-hearted, impulsive Hal, and the winsome, pretty Juanita, prisoners in the hands of the cruel and merciless Apaches, who were never known to surrender a captive alive. Then, as I thought of a worse fate than death, that was in store for the bright, beautiful girl, I thanked God that her old father was spared the anguish that such a knowledge would have caused him.