d her."

"Did you get sight of her face?"

"No, her back war torst me, an' she kep on 'ithout turnin' or stoppin' a
minnit. 'Twar the very duds that girl used to wear, an' her bulk to an
inch. It kudn't a been liker her. Darn me, ef 'twan't eyther her or
her ghost!"

"It is very improbable that it could have been either?"

I did not for a moment entertain the idea that it was the Chicasaw he
had seen; and yet my comrade was fully impressed with the belief, and
reiterated the assertion that he had either seen Su-wa-nee or her
"shadder." Though the thing was improbable, it was not beyond
possibility. We knew that there were Indians travelling with the train:
we had heard so before starting out. But what likelihood was there of
Su-wa-nee being among them? Certainly not much. That there were
prairie Indians around us, was probable enough. We had already observed
their traces upon the ground of the deserted camp. The "squaw" seen by
Wingrove might be one of these.

Whether or not, her presence proved the proximity of red-skins; and the
knowledge of having such dangerous neighbours, summoned us to a fresh
exercise of vigilance and caution. Our fire was instantly extinguished;
and, contenting ourselves with a morsel of the half-broiled
buffalo-beef, we moved to some distance from the spot, before
proceeding, to cook the antelope. A dark covert in the thick woods
offered us a more secure kitchen. There we rekindled our fire--and
roasting the ribs of the prong-horn, refreshed ourselves with an ample
meal. After an hour's repose, we resumed our journey--in confident
expectation, that before sunset we should get within sight of the
caravan.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

UP THE CANON.

We had not ridden far from our halting-place, when we arrived at the end
of the great cotton-wood forest. Beyond that, the trace led over open
ground--here and there dotted by groves and "islands" of timber.
Through these we threaded our way--keeping as much as possible among the
trees. Further on, we came upon a gorge--one of the noted _canons_
through which the Huerfano runs. Here the river sweeps down a narrow
channel, with rocky banks that rise on each side into precipitous cliffs
of stupendous height.

To avoid this gorge--impassable for wheeled vehicles--the waggon-trace,
below its entrance, turns off to the right; and we perceived that the
caravan had taken that direction. To get round the heads of the
transverse ravines,