Jerry sprang upon a horse; and shouting, "Take care er the camp!" rode rapidly in the direction of the herd.

Telling Hal and Ned to climb the rocks and report what they saw, I ordered the wagons to be drawn up in a line parallel with the foot of the bluff, thus improvising a sort of corral.

The boys, by this time, had discovered eight or ten Indians following the herders, who were driving the animals towards camp. I immediately rode out to assist them. At the moment I reached the plain, a little puff of white smoke rose on the air, far to the rear of the herders. A second after, I saw a riderless horse galloping wildly towards the herd, where he was lost to view. I urged my horse forward; and, by our combined exertions, the animals were safely brought into camp and corralled.

These secured, we turned our attention to the Indians, who were coming down upon us like a whirlwind.

"Don't a man fire till I give the word," said Jerry; "and remember not to throw away a bullet."

The Indians had paused upon the plain, nearly half a mile from our camp; and, sitting upon their horses, were evidently considering the best plan of attack. Suddenly, two of their number turned, and rode back towards the spot where we had first seen them.

"What can they be going back for?" asked Hal, who, rifle in hand, was standing by Jerry's side, evidently anxious for an opportunity to wipe out old scores.

"What are they going back for?" repeated Jerry; "why, to scalp that poor cuss they shot, I reckon. Judge," continued he, turning toward me, "jest you try a crack at them fellers with yer new-fashioned 'dust-raiser,' will yer?" pointing to my Sharpe's carbine.

"I don't believe that I can reach them: it will only be throwing away a cartridge, to make the attempt," replied I.

"Well, jest try it," continued he; "'cause, if yer could hit one of 'em, they'd leave mighty sudden, and save us considerable trouble."

"Yes, you can reach 'em," said Ned. "I wish you would try."

Dismounting, and resting the carbine over the back of my horse, I took careful, deliberate aim, and fired.

That the bullet did reach them, and they were badly frightened, was evident from the suddenness with which they wheeled, and galloped over the plain, in an opposite direction.

The next moment, Jerry grasped my shoulder, and shouted, "You hit one of the devils, sartin."

Bringing my glass to bear, I saw one of the Indians reel in his saddle, then recover himself a little, again waver, and finally fall to the ground, while his horse continued on with the remainder of the party, who, after riding some distance, stopped.

In a little time, they were joined by the two who had previously left them. Then three of their number rode towards the spot where their fallen comrade lay; and, securing his body, one of them took it before him on the horse, and the whole party galloped off.

"That ere shot of yourn was a good one," said Jerry. "Tit for tat is my rule for them varmints; an' we're even with 'em on this arternoon's work. I reckon we'd better take a shovel along, an' bury that poor feller that's a-lyin' there."

"Certainly, Jerry; but wouldn't it be better to bring the body in, and bury it here?" asked I.

"We don't want the men to see it, ef we kin help it. It allus makes 'em skeery; for there ain't nobody that wants to be cut and hacked to pieces, ef they be dead, as them red devils have sarved that poor Mexican, sartin."

Directing Patsey to bring a shovel, Jerry and I started on our sad errand. After riding about a mile, we came upon the body of the dead man, stretched upon the green grass, naked, scalped, and terribly mutilated.

For a few moments we sat upon our horses, silently gazing upon the horrible spectacle, too much shocked to speak. The silence was broken by Jerry, who exclaimed,—

"Ef them 'Paches ain't devils, then thar ain't no use of havin' any, that's all I've got to say. A pictur like that ain't a very appetizin' thing for a Traveller that's like to git ketched the same way, any day; so I reckon we'd better git it under kiver."

A grave was soon dug; and, wrapping the poor mutilated body in my saddle-blanket, we laid it within the narrow walls, and hastily covered it from sight; then, remounting oar horses, silently rode back to camp.

No question was asked upon our return, and neither Jerry nor myself felt much like talking; for the scene we had just witnessed impressed upon us more strongly than words could have done, the responsibility as well as constant watchfulness and care necessary in travelling through a country so full of peril.

The miserable fate of poor Gonzales seemed to throw a gloom over the entire camp; for it forced all to realize how beset with danger was every step we took, and how easily it might have been one of us, lying cold in death, instead of the poor Mexican.

We retired early, after taking every precaution possible to guard against surprise, and I soon fell asleep, but was aroused a few hours later, by terrific screams and howls from Patsey, who was capering around the camp in the most ridiculous manner, executing as many singular and grotesque gyrations as an Apache in celebrating the scalp-dance. The entire camp was roused: even the guards rushed in from their posts to ascertain the cause of the disturbance.

Patsey And The Snake

Neither Jerry, Hal, nor Ned could discover the cause of Patsey's terror; for, in response to our many inquiries, he would only scratch his leg through the rent in his trousers, and constantly jump up and down, as though standing upon a hot griddle, all the while howling at the top of his lungs.

Becoming, at last, thoroughly angry, I seized the boy by the collar, and gave him such a shaking that I finally succeeded in getting an answer to the question, as to what was the matter.

"Mather!" roared Patsey. "Mather enuff, God knows! Shnakes is the mather!" making a desperate dive down into the leg of his pants. "I'm bited to death wid a shnake, so I am. Can't yez all sae I'm a did mon?"

Now, as far as appearances went, Patsey was a long way from being a dead man, for he still indulged in more lively contortions than a corpse was ever known to execute; each movement accompanied by a yell almost loud enough to wake the dead.

An examination revealed the fact, that the boy had heedlessly spread his blanket over the entrance to the home of a colony of large black ants, and the little fellows, angry at his presumption, had attacked him, in the most spiteful manner, through the rents in his trousers. Patsey, awakened out of a sound sleep by their stings, and remembering Ned's adventure in the Organos mountains, had fancied himself the unfortunate victim of a like attack. We finally succeeded in convincing him that he was not dead, nor likely to die; and then, the camp resumed its usual quiet.

Early in the morning, before we were ready to start, Jerry called my attention to several "bighorns,"—or, more properly speaking, Rocky-Mountain sheep,—that stood perched upon a high cliff which overhung our camp several hundred feet in the air. As these were the first we had seen upon the route, I at once called Hal and Ned to witness the sight, who immediately proposed to make the attempt to capture one.

Jerry assured them it was impossible; for it would take hours to reach the spot where they stood, or even to get within rifle-range of them. This fact alone would prevent starting on a hunt, as we were exceedingly anxious to get through the pass without being obliged to spend another night in so dangerous a locality.

This animal is somewhat larger than the common sheep, is covered with brownish hair instead of wool, and is chiefly remarkable for its huge spiral horns, resembling those of a sheep, but frequently three feet in length, and from four to six inches in diameter at the base.

It is very agile; and, secluding itself among the most inaccessible mountain-crags, delights in capering upon the very verge of the most frightful precipices, and skipping from rock to rock across yawning chasms hundreds of feet in depth.

I have been assured by old hunters, that, if pursued, it will leap from a cliff into the valley a hundred feet below, where, alighting upon its huge horns, it springs to its feet, uninjured, its neck being so thick and strong, that it endures the greatest shock without injury.

This animal more closely resembles the chamois than any other species found upon this continent, and is almost as difficult to capture.

After leaving the pass and coming out upon the open plain, west of the mountains, we saw, in the distance, a wild ox.

Now the boys had, for some time, fancied that they were very expert in the use of the lasso; and, upon seeing this ox, became seized with the insane desire to capture him with that weapon, after the most-approved style of the Mexican lazador. Remonstrance was in vain. They knew they could do it; and away they went on their ponies, eager for the sport, leaving the remainder of the party to watch them from a distance.

Upon their approaching near to the old fellow, he threw up his head, elevated his tail, brandished his long horns, and, with a loud bellow of defiance, started directly for them. The boys evidently had not anticipated this, for they slackened their pace at the sight, riding very slowly towards him.

As they approached, he commenced shaking his head, pawing the earth, and bellowing furiously. Then he began to move slowly around in a circle, throwing clouds of dust high in the air, and almost making the ground shake with his angry bellowings; finally turning, however, he galloped slowly away over the plain.

Away went the ox, and away went the boys after him: it was a run for life on the one side; on the other, a chase for glory.

Hal, who was a short distance in advance of Ned, anxious to get his rope first over the horns, finally made a cast with his lasso. At the same moment, his pony stumbled, and away went Hal over his head, landing some feet nearer the ox than he expected to do when he made the cast.

Ned, who was just behind, now thundered past with lasso in hand, ready raised to take advantage of Hal's mishap. He threw it; but the noose fell short of the object aimed at, and encircled a stout yucca, that would stand directly in the way.

And now the ox, as though understanding the misfortunes that had befallen his pursuers, turned, and made a furious charge in the direction of the already discomforted lazadors. Seeing him coming towards them, with lolling tongue, protruding eyes, and angry bellowings, they began to realize, that, in their case at least, discretion was the better part of valor. Both turned and fled, leaving pony, lasso, and their courage, behind them.

The race now assumed another phrase: it was for safety on the one side, and revenge on the other.

On came the boys, Ned in the lead, on his pony, and Hal bringing up the rear on foot; behind them, the ox, whose bellowing each moment grew louder and more furious. Suddenly, Hal disappeared behind a clump of mesquite; but the ox kept on in his efforts to overtake Ned, whose pony was straining every nerve to reach the wagons in advance of his pursuer.

When the animal came within rifle-range, Jerry quietly stepped out and shot him through the head. Ned rode up breathless, upon his panting pony, and said to one of the Mexicans,—

"Say, Juan, how do you throw a lasso? I thought I knew all about it; but I reckon I don't."

Hal soon came in, his hands full of thorns, his eyes full of dust, and his clothes much the worse for his encounter with the ground, protesting, however, that, if his pony hadn't stumbled, he should have had the old fellow, sure.

"But your pony did stumble, and you didn't get him; nor I, either," remarked Ned. "And I don't think you and I had better brag any more about lassoing until you can catch your pony down there in the chaparral;" and Hal went for his pony.

The evening of the third day from the pass brought us to the head of Quercos caÑon, where we came upon a party of Mexicans and Papago Indians, engaged in manufacturing mescal, the native whiskey of the country.

This beverage is made from the roots of the maguey, a plant common to this region. The roots are bulbous, and are gathered in large quantities, and thrown into pits containing red-hot stones.

These being filled, they are covered with grass or brush, over which blankets are spread. The roots are allowed to remain until thoroughly steamed, when they are taken out, placed in sacks of rawhide and crushed, the juice escaping into earthen vessels. It is afterwards fermented in the sun, when it becomes an intoxicating liquor, very closely resembling Irish whiskey in taste, smell, and effect upon the brain.

Patsey enjoyed its pungent, smoky aroma, with the keenest pleasure, and, after several times tasting it, pronounced it quite "aquil to the bist rale ould Irish whiskey," an opinion that we all endorsed after witnessing his condition a few hours later.

While encamped here, Ned came to me and reminded me of my promise to Patsey; saying, that one of the Mexicans had a splendid suit of buckskin, that he would dispose of very cheap. I traded for it, and Ned arrayed Patsey in it. Never did king, clothed in robes of royal purple, exhibit greater pride than did Patsey in his buckskin suit. But, alas! pride must have a fall; and, within a very few hours, I saw him sitting on the ground, clothed in his new suit, and protesting with maudlin earnestness that he was the "veritable Bryan O'Linn himsilf."

Three days later, we reached the old Mission of San Xavier del Bac, one of the most interesting relics of the ancient Spanish rule, to be found in this country.

It was built by the Jesuits nearly two hundred years ago, and is one of the finest specimens of Saracenic architecture to be found on this continent. It is located on the lands of the Papago Indians, in whose charge it now is.

We encamped beneath the shadow of this massive pile, surrounded by the thatched huts of the Papagos, who cluster about its cruciform walls as though confident of its power to protect them, as it did their ancestors, from the contaminating influences of the outside world.

These Indians are a simple, honest, industrious tribe, quite superior to their present situation, and claim that their ancestors have occupied the country for more than a thousand years, and were far more civilized than themselves.

Many of them are as black as negroes, and nearly all are fine specimens of physical beauty. Still, as a race, they, like the old church, are but a wreck of former greatness.

A ride of eight miles brought us to the town of Tucson, through which our wagons passed to the Pico Chico Mountain, five miles beyond, where we made our camp.

This was formerly an old Mexican fort, and was abandoned in 1853, after the survey of the boundary line between Mexico and the United States.

We were here informed, that the Apaches had attacked and captured a small train that was travelling over the route we were following, only the week before; consequently, our chances of getting through unmolested were very good; a piece of information that we received gladly.

The boys and myself spent several hours in Tucson, looking about the town, and its many curiosities, being especially interested in several half-naked, dirty Apaches, which were lounging about, with large nuggets of gold tied up in their filthy rags.

Horse-racing, wrestling, gambling, drinking mescal, and shooting people, seemed to be the principal occupation of its inhabitants, who, as a whole, were about as villainous a looking set of cut-throats as could be found west of the Rio Grande.

---

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com