ed, when charging with their long and
death-dealing lances.

As I continued to gaze over the azoteas a terrific scene riveted my
attention, and I forgot all others. Upon a high roof two men were
engaged in combat fierce and deadly. Their brilliant dresses had
attracted me, and I soon recognised the combatants. They were Dacoma
and the Maricopa!

The Navajo fought with a spear, and I saw that the other held his rifle
clubbed and empty.

When my eye first rested upon them, the latter had just parried a
thrust, and was aiming a blow at his antagonist. It fell without
effect; and Dacoma, turning quickly, brought his lance again to the
charge. Before El Sol could ward it off, the thrust was given, and the
weapon appeared to pass through his body!

I involuntarily uttered a cry, as I expected to see the noble Indian
fall. What was my astonishment at seeing him brandish his tomahawk over
his head, and with a crashing blow stretch the Navajo at his feet!

Drawn down by the impaling shaft, he fell over the body, but in a moment
struggled up again, drew the long lance from his flesh, and tottering
forward to the parapet, shouted out--

"Here, Luna! Our mother is avenged!"

I saw the girl spring upon the roof, followed by Garey; and the next
moment the wounded man sank fainting in the arms of the trapper.

Rube, Saint Vrain, and several others now climbed to the roof, and
commenced examining the wound. I watched them with feelings of painful
suspense, for the character of this most singular man had inspired me
with friendship. Presently Saint Vrain joined me, and I was assured
that the wound was not mortal. The Maricopa would live.

The battle was now ended. The warriors who survived had fled to the
forest. Shots were heard only at intervals; an occasional shout, the
shriek of some savage discovered lurking among the walls.

Many white captives had been found in the town, and were brought in
front of the temple, guarded by the Mexicans. The Indian women had
escaped to the woods during the engagement. It was well; for the
hunters and volunteer soldiery, exasperated by wounds and heated by the
conflict, now raged around like furies. Smoke ascended from many of the
houses; flames followed; and the greater part of the town was soon
reduced to a smouldering ruin.

We stayed all that day by the Navajo village, to recruit our animals and
prepare for our homeward journey across the desert. The plundered
cattl