Part 29 (1/2)

We travelled in Indian file. Habit has formed this disposition among Indians and hunters on the march. The tangled paths of the forest, and the narrow defiles of the mountains admit of no other. Even when pa.s.sing a plain, our cavalcade was strung out for a quarter of a mile.

The atajo followed in charge of the arrieros.

For the first day of our march we kept on without nooning. There was neither gra.s.s nor water on the route; and a halt under the hot sun would not have refreshed us.

Early in the afternoon a dark line became visible, stretching across the plain. As we drew nearer, a green wall rose before us, and we distinguished the groves of cotton-wood. The hunters knew it to be the timber on the Paloma. We were soon pa.s.sing under the shade of its quivering canopy, and reaching the banks of a clear stream, we halted for the night.

Our camp was formed without either tents or lodges. Those used on the Del Norte had been left behind in ”cache.” An expedition like ours could not be c.u.mbered with camp baggage. Each man's blanket was his house, his bed, and his cloak.

Fires were kindled, and ribs roasted; and fatigued with our journey (the first day's ride has always this effect), we were soon wrapped in our blankets and sleeping soundly.

We were summoned next morning by the call of the bugle sounding reveille. The band partook somewhat of a military organisation, and everyone understood the signals of light cavalry.

Our breakfast was soon cooked and eaten; our horses were drawn from their pickets, saddled, and mounted; and at another signal we moved forward on the route.

The incidents of our first journey were repeated, with but little variety, for several days in succession. We travelled through a desert country, here and there covered with wild sage and mezquite.

We pa.s.sed on our route clumps of cacti, and thickets of creosote bushes, that emitted their foul odours as we crushed through them. On the fourth evening we camped at a spring, the Ojo de Vaca, lying on the eastern borders of the Llanos.

Over the western section of this great prairie pa.s.ses the Apache war-trail, running southward into Sonora. Near the trail, and overlooking it, a high mountain rises out of the plain. It is the Pinon.

It was our design to reach this mountain, and ”cacher” among the rocks, near a well-known spring, until our enemies should pa.s.s; but to effect this we would have to cross the war-trail, and our own tracks would betray us. Here was a difficulty which had not occurred to Seguin.

There was no other point except the Pinon from which we could certainly see the enemy on their route and be ourselves hidden. This mountain, then, must be reached; and how were we to effect it without crossing the trail?

After our arrival at Ojo de Vaca, Seguin drew the men together to deliberate on this matter.

”Let us spread,” said a hunter, ”and keep wide over the paraira, till we've got clar past the Apash trail. They won't notice a single track hyar and thyar, I reckin.”

”Ay, but they will, though,” rejoined another. ”Do ye think an Injun's a-goin' to pa.s.s a shod horse track 'ithout follerin' it up? No, siree!”

”We kin m.u.f.fle the hoofs, as far as that goes,” suggested the first speaker.

”Wagh! That ud only make it worse. I tried that dodge once afore, an'

nearly lost my har for it. He's a blind Injun kin be fooled that away.

'Twon't do nohow.”

”They're not going to be so partickler when they're on the war-trail, I warrant ye. I don't see why it shouldn't do well enough.”

Most of the hunters agreed with the former speaker. The Indians would not fail to notice so many m.u.f.fled tracks, and suspect there was something in the wind. The idea of ”m.u.f.fling” was therefore abandoned.

What next? The trapper Rube, who up to this time had said nothing, now drew the attention of all by abruptly exclaiming, ”Pis.h.!.+”

”Well! what have you to say, old hoss?” inquired one of the hunters.

”Thet yur a set o' fools, one and all o' ee. I kud take the full o'

that paraira o' hosses acrosst the 'Pash trail, 'ithout making a sign that any Injun's a-gwine to foller, particularly an Injun on the war-beat as them is now.”

”How?” asked Seguin.

”I'll tell yur how, cap, ev yur'll tell me what 'ee wants to cross the trail for.”

”Why, to conceal ourselves in the Pinon range; what else?”