t sleep you can."

Midnight found us once more in the saddle, and when, some hours later, we
reached the deposit referred to, an examination showed, that, instead of
crossing it, the trail skirted its southern edge for a couple of miles,
and then took an easterly course towards the Sacramento Mountains,
distant about twenty-five miles.

Our course lay in the vicinity of two or three little _salinas_, or
salt lakes, but over an arid, barren plain, destitute of any vegetation,
except mesquite _chaparral_; and about three o'clock in the
afternoon, we reached the timber that skirted the base of the mountains.

As the guides, who were some distance in advance, reached the extreme end
of a spur, around which the trail led, we saw them pause for a few
moments, and then hasten towards us.

Upon reaching us, old Jerry, in a voice husky with emotion, said,
"They're there for sartin;" pointing towards the end of the spur.

A retreat to the cover of the trees was instantly ordered, when the
guides informed us, that upon reaching the point of rocks, they
discovered several animals grazing in the meadow beyond, and that the
Indians must be encamped in the immediate vicinity; but in order to make
sure, would leave their horses with us, and return and make a
_reconnoissance_.

They returned a couple of hours later, reporting that they had discovered
the camp, but owing to its situation, could not get near enough to see
into it, without running too much risk of discovery. There was one
"wickey-up," [The name given by scouts to Apache huts.] however, made of
brush, in which the girl was undoubtedly confined. From appearances they
thought the Indians intended to remain there, long enough to recruit
their stock, as the grass was very good; and that as soon as it should be
dark, they would return and take a closer inspection of the camp. Nothing
more remained for us to do therefore, but to "possess our souls with
patience" until darkness came.

Now that we were so near the success or failure of the expedition for
which we had endured so much fatigue and anxiety, it was impossible to
remain quiet. Every moment seemed an hour. Ned was constantly on the
move, apparantly unable to remain in one position an instant. He had
anticipated accompanying us in the attack upon the Indian camp, but the
lieutenant positively forbade it, saying, that he was not only too young,
but too good a fellow to be shot by Apaches, that year.

This did not s