were the
breech-clouts and turbans worn by nearly all the Tonto warriors in
preference to any other head-gear or clothing,--a cheap cotton cloth
being always kept in abundant supply at the agencies solely for their
use. Some of them, it is true, wore no turban at all, their luxuriant
growth of coarse black hair tumbling about their shoulders and trimmed
off in a "bang" just level with their fierce, beady eyes, being all the
head covering they needed. But the breech-clout was universal and some
few even wore loose cotton shirts. These, with the moccasin and leggin
invariably worn, the leggin generally in a dozen folds at the ankle,
made the war toilet of the intractable Tonto. There was none of the
finery of the proud warriors of the plains--the Sioux, Cheyenne or
Crow--but for all that, when those Apaches took to the war-path, the
soldiers used to say, "It meant business."

"They will be here in three hours at the rate they're coming; three
short hours, too, for those beggars can keep up a jog trot all day long.
Now for it! captain or no captain."

With that brief soliloquy Pike slid down from his perch, and for the
second time that morning made his way down the hillside and back to
camp. Here he found Kate and the children as full of eager and anxious
inquiry about papa as before, and could only comfort them by saying that
the mules must have run far to the south and were proving more than
ordinarily obstinate about coming back. Still, he said, papa is sure to
be here before noon, and indeed he hoped, and more than half believed,
that such would be the case. Knowing the danger that menaced his little
ones, it could not be that the captain would not use every endeavor to
get back to them before the Indians could reach the Pass.

Jim had obeyed his instructions to the letter. There were the two big
rolls of blankets, securely strapped; there were the supplies; the
bacon, bread, _frijoles_, coffee, sugar, canned meats and vegetables.
Even some jams and jellies for the children, together with the coffee
pot, skillets, plates, cups and saucers all stowed away in the big iron
kettle that hung under the wagon and in a pail or two, ready to be
plumped into the ambulance if a start was to be made for the river, or
"toted" up the hill if the order was to take to the cave. And then the
irrepressible propensity of the negro had cropped out again. There lay
Black Jim peacefully snoring in the sunshine, oblivious of all danger.