rning we were up and moving at sunrise; and after a march of
twenty miles, came to a small stream heading in the Pinon range. It was
fringed with cottonwood trees, and there was grass in abundance for our
horses. We made a halt for an hour, and then proceeded on our journey.
We had not gone far when we made a discovery that changed all our
plans. Harding had been riding about a hundred yards ahead of the main
party, when we observed him suddenly stop, bend down, and then throwing
up his hands, beckon us on. We were soon up to the spot, asking in a
breath what was the matter. He pointed to the ground, and sententiously
replied, "_fresh Injun sign_." A consultation was held, and after an
interchange of opinions, it was agreed that the trail was made by
Apaches, and that from the trampled nature of the ground, it indicated
the presence of a large party. We had no doubt as to their intentions.
They were evidently bound south on their annual foray. Now was my time
beyond peradventure. Never could I have had such another opportunity;
perhaps even if I waited patiently for years.

I briefly related to my companions the circumstances of my capture,
captivity, and subsequent escape, and asked their aid in rescuing my
wife. Each grasped me cordially by the hand, and expressed their
willingness to "see me through;" and after a few moments more spent in
consultation, we agreed on the following plan: To push on at once and as
speedily as possible for the Indian village, secrete ourselves in the
adjacent mountains until nightfall, and then leaving the horses
concealed in the bushes that fringe the base of the mountain, advance on
foot to the chief's lodge. Once within its portal, it would be the work
of a moment to seek out my wife, apprise her of what was transpiring,
and quietly leading her out, hasten to our animals, mount, and ride
away. This plan seemed feasible, and as moments were precious, we
resumed the march.

About noon we debouched through the mountain pass into a country of
"openings;" small prairies bounded by jungly forests, and interspersed
with timber islands. These prairies were covered with tall grass; and
buffalo signs appeared as we rode into them. We saw their "roads,"
"chips," and "wallows." These signs filled us with pleasurable
anticipations; as who has not longed for the delicious "hump ribs,"
which, when once tasted in all their juicy richness, are never to be
forgotten. The full-grown forms of the cacti w