The red mustang was in excellent health, and he was also in high spirits. So was his master, and they were nearly agreed upon another point. Dick evidently believed that any trail whatever ought to be followed at full speed, and Cal fretted continually over the steady plodding commanded by Captain Moore. Cal was glad that in his first Indian campaign he was to have so much first-class help, including the four Chiricahua-Apache scouts. He had confidence in his father and in the captain, as men of experience in such matters, but at last he could hardly help mentioning to Sam Herrick the joint criticism made by himself and Dick. "Why, Sam," he remarked, "the red-skins have three days the start of us, and Captain Moore isn't in any kind of hurry. They must be gaining on us."

"That's not of much account, Cal," said Sam, "so long as their trail stays in this country. They're camped at the end of it to-night. So they will be every night till they get to the far end of it, and there we'll find 'em, unless they cross over into Mexico."

"And if they do that?" asked Cal.

"Mexico's a hot place for Indians just now," replied Sam. "Troops moving; militia called out. These fellows couldn't stay there."

The far end of an Indian trail is sometimes a curious thing to hunt for, as Sam went on to explain. It may get lost in the sand, or among the mountains, or in the snow, or somebody may hide it or steal it, or a heavy rain may wash it all out.

"Well," said Cal, "one thing's sure. If we should come near 'em, and have to chase 'em, the horses won't be too travel-tired for good running."

"Exactly so," said Sam. "That's what the captain's up to."

The cavalry and cowboy camp, that night, was as safe as Santa Lucia, but there was something like a disturbance in another place.

The party of rancheros and Chiricahua militia who had blazed away at Kah-go-mish may have been a kind of scouting-party. They had escaped destruction by not following him up the slope, and they afterwards had not many miles to ride before they reached a camp to which they evidently belonged. One small corner of that camp had an appearance of good order, where an experienced officer of the Mexican army was in command of a few disciplined soldiers. All the remainder of it seemed to bear the likeness of a grand military picnic, where all the men who had tickets were free to have a good time in any manner they might please. Very soon after supper most of them pleased to lie down and go to sleep, while others sat up to smoke and play cards.

Of course there could not be any danger threatening a force of over four hundred men, all so warlike, so soldierly, so completely ready to whip any tribe of mere red Indians. Besides, no important band of hostiles was known or believed to be in that vicinity. There might have been a better watch kept that night, nevertheless, especially at the corral where all their horses were picketed.

This had been made along the bank of the deep, still stream which supplied the camp with ice-water from the Sierra Madre. Nobody ever heard of any fellow taking a swim in such cold water as that was. It was cold enough to chill the bones of a mountain trout. Of course no one did undertake to swim in it, but, at about midnight, a log came floating down. There was a large knot on one side of the log. The current or something carried it against the bank, right in the middle of the corral, and either there were two logs, or that log divided, for one log floated off down stream, while the other log crept out on shore, stood erect, and walked stealthily around among the horses. The knot was carried on the upper end of this log, and the other went off without any.

Very quickly were four of the best horses fixed with four of the best saddles and bridles from among the long rows at the edge of the corral. The log did it, and added holsters with revolvers in them and two bundles of fine lances and some good American carbines, and two full straddle packs of cartridges. The sentries of the corral were all stationed away outside of the place where that peculiar log was at work. All but two of them were asleep, as the guardians of so strong and warlike a camp had a right to be.Now the log crept around until it found a path leading out southerly, past a sentry who was sleeping very soundly indeed. Then it went back into the corral and led out the four saddled and bridled horses, with four others following that wore only halters, but carried securely strapped burdens, selected and fitted by the log.

There was a brilliant moonlight, so that there was no danger whatever to the camp from Indians, and the log led the horses on until it became wise to go ahead and see if there had been any picket posted at the place and distance at which one might have been expected.

"Ugh!" exclaimed the log, as it went back for the horses. "Mexican! No blue-coat!"

That was a compliment to such men as Captain Moore, but then the log was doing what no kind of fellow would have undertaken with "blue-coats." It now mounted one of the horses and led on up the stream, to a place it seemed to know about, where the water was wide and shallow and could be easily forded. On crossing it the log was still at no great distance from the camp, but upon higher ground. Looking down, it could have a good view of the smouldering camp-fires and the sleeping Mexicans, for tents there were not.

"Kah-go-mish is a great chief!" exclaimed the knot at the top of the log, exultingly. "Ugh! Got heap hoss, heap saddle, heap gun, heap all plunder. Ugh! Mexican shoot at him on rock. Wonder how feel now, pretty soon. Ugh!"

An irrepressible whoop of triumph burst from him."Ugh! Bad medicine," he said. "Great chief let mouth go off like boy."

He had not lost his wits, however, and he followed that whoop with a dozen more, a whole series of fierce, ear-splitting screeches, while he rapidly emptied the nine chambers of the captured carbine and the six of a revolver. He aimed at the camp-fires and with tip-top success, testified to by sudden showers of sparks and brands which flew around among the startled sleepers.

Great was the uproar in that astonished camp. Seven gallant fellows who had bugles began to blow for dear life the moment they were upon their feet. Every officer began to shout orders as soon as he was awake, and some seemed to begin even earlier. They exhibited tremendous presence of mind, but no soldier received the same order from any two of them. Within a minute, at least a hundred men were at their posts of danger behind something or other, while three hundred more were making a blind rush for the corral. The sentries had all fired their pieces at once, and now there began a general popping of guns and pistols at the awful shadows beyond the little river.

Kah-go-mish could hardly have wished for anything better. He wheeled and rode rapidly away, followed by the string of horses which he had regarded as the fee due to him for being made a target of.

He had not been killed, then, no thanks to the Mexicans, and he had not killed anybody now, deeming it imprudent to take any scalps under the circumstances. He had again, however, proved his claim to be considered an extraordinary collector of enemy's horses, and that is a high fame to win among the wild tribes of the southwest. As for the righteousness of what he had done, in his own eyes, he was a commanding officer of Mescalero Apaches, and his people were at war with Mexico, as the rancheros and militia had declared so recklessly. He made war in a manner every inch as civilized as their own, and thought well of himself for so doing. He said so, quite a number of times, that night, as he rode on deeper and deeper into the rugged passes of the Sierras. About daylight he came to an open, shaded spot, by a spring, where there was grass for his prizes, and where he could build a fire and then find out what there might be for breakfast in a very fat haversack which hung from one of the saddles.

As for the Mexican cavalry, of all sorts, they behaved well, and the officer in supreme command at last succeeded in substituting his own orders for those of his hasty subordinates. He stationed a strong force at the ford, to prevent the supposed tribe of red men which had assailed his camp from crossing the river. He threw out scouting-parties, encouraged his men by voice and example, urging them to do their duty, prove their attachment to their flag, and to die rather than surrender. He was answered by enthusiastic cheers, and, when morning came, he readily obtained from among them a body of brave volunteers who followed him across the ford to search the dangerous underbrush on the hill from which the hostile barbarians had fired upon the camp. The more they searched the better they felt, and at last they found a trace of the enemy. They captured a pony, bridle and all. It was the sad-looking beast selected by Kah-go-mish as the most nearly worthless of all that he had brought with him from the Reservation.

Eight militiamen, one of them a bugler, already knew that the enemy had penetrated the corral, and had gotten away again, but here was a sort of a mount for one of them. Well, it was a capture, anyhow, and a proof of victory, and was spoken of as "ponies" in the official report of the manner in which that night-attack had been baffled by the Chiricahua militia.