or delivery. With Indian raids,
frenzy in stampeding, and an unavoidable dry drive, the cattle had
gaunted like rails. But with an abundance of water and by merely
grazing the remainder of the distance, it was believed that the beeves
would recover their old form and be ready for inspection at the end of
the month of August. Indian sign was still plentiful, but in smaller
bands, and with an unceasing vigilance we wormed our way up the Pecos
valley.

When within a day's ride of the post, Mr. Loving took Wilson with him
and started in to Fort Sumner. The heat of August on the herd had made
recovery slow, but if a two weeks' postponement could be agreed on,
it was believed the beeves would qualify. The circumstances were
unavoidable; the government had been lenient before; so, hopeful of
accomplishing his mission, the senior member of the firm set out on
his way. The two men left camp at daybreak, cautioned by Goodnight
to cross the river by a well-known trail, keeping in the open, even
though it was farther, as a matter of safety. They were well mounted
for the trip, and no further concern was given to their welfare until
the second morning, when Loving's horse came into camp, whinnying for
his mates. There were blood-stains on the saddle, and the story of a
man who was cautious for others and careless of himself was easily
understood. Conjecture was rife. The presence of the horse admitted of
several interpretations. An Indian ambush was the most probable, and
a number of men were detailed to ferret out the mystery. We were then
seventy miles below Sumner, and with orders to return to the herd at
night six of us immediately started. The searching party was divided
into squads, one on either side of the Pecos River, but no results
were obtained from the first day's hunt. The herd had moved up fifteen
miles during the day, and the next morning the search was resumed,
the work beginning where it had ceased the evening before. Late that
afternoon and from the east bank, as Goodnight and I were scanning the
opposite side of the river, a lone man, almost naked, emerged from a
cave across the channel and above us. Had it not been for his missing
arm it is doubtful if we should have recognized him, for he seemed
demented. We rode opposite and hailed, when he skulked back into his
refuge; but we were satisfied that it was Wilson. The other searchers
were signaled to, and finding an entrance into the river, we swam it
and rode up