y so, and we enjoyed
working in it. There was a peculiar pleasure in our quiet industry in
that sheltered place away from the turmoil of the river and the lone,
weird desert land through which we were traveling.

I finished my name first.

"Jo Darlington." If you ever visit that cavern, which is most
improbable, you will see it there. If some future explorer, several
thousand years from now chances to drop in, he will also see my name
there, as durable as the stone itself.

I left the other artists at work and went out to take a look at our
boat. I just stepped outside of the entrance, and at my first glance
through the screen of cottonwoods I saw something that froze me in my
tracks.

I made out an Indian making his way along a trail towards our boat. Who
would reach it first? His purpose was evident. To reach the boat and cut
it loose and drift with it into the river. Then where would we be?
Stranded high and dry, with neither supplies nor guns, nor boat.

I gave one yell to the boys in the interior of the cave, and sprang
forward with unleashed energy. The Indian started at the same time
towards the boat. He had a clearer trail than I did, and leaped forward
with the swiftness of a deer.

Never had I run for such a stake, neither brush nor logs could stop me.
I tore through the bushes with tremendous speed and down the slope
towards the boat I hurled myself.

But the Indian was ahead by fifty feet, and sprang on "The Captain."
Then he turned towards me, throwing one hand up, exclaiming:

"How, how, Jo Darlington?"

I stopped and sat down in absolute and unbounded amazement. It was
Juarez Hopkins.

"Hurry, boys," I yelled, "it's Juarez."

We gathered around him in an excited state, slapping him on the back,
wringing his hand, and executing a war dance upon the deck of "The
Captain." In reply to our numerous questions he told us simply of his
trip in search of us with an occasional gleam of his white teeth.

He had met the captain and found out our plans, but not knowing exactly
where we would start, he had determined to intercept us below, at the
crossing of The Fathers.

He had worn out two bronchos, but was in good condition himself. It was
by a curious accident that he had found us in the Temple canyon. I will
explain how this was later.

CHAPTER XXVI

JUAREZ BRINGS US NEWS

"You look very much as you used to," said Jim, "only you have your hair
cut. How were your father and mother?"