. Vic turned it and began to ascend the almost dry bed
of the stream, in the bottom of which I could see occasional
depressions at regular distances, as if made by a horse at a trot.
Soon the brook enlarged, becoming a flowing stream, and the tracks
were no longer visible.

That the brook flowed from the _cienaga_, or marsh, where the Navajos
were rendezvoused, was an easy inference. The Indian boy was
endeavoring to reach that place with the stolen pony. Directing Frank
to keep up the left side of the stream, and to look for tracks
indicating that Chiquita had left its bed, I took the right side and
hastened on.

Willows now began to appear along the banks, showing that we had
reached a permanent flow of water. Twice we came to masses of bowlders
which made it impossible for a horse to travel in the stream, and we
found that the pony had skirted them.

We had now reached a point where a small brook entered the larger one
from the right. We dismounted at the confluence to make an
observation. Vic suddenly began to bark furiously; then a yelp and a
continued cry of pain showed that the dog was hurt, and presently she
appeared with an arrow through the thick of her neck.

Advancing cautiously I caught sight of Chiquita in a cleft of the rock
at my left, and an Indian boy standing behind her and aiming an arrow
over the saddle. A sharp twang, and the missile flew through my hair
between my right ear and my hat-rim. The boy then sprang forward, and
raised a knife as if to hamstring the pony. But it was not to be, for
a carbine spoke, and the raised arm of the Indian fell at his side.

"Well done, Frank!" I called.

We ran forward to capture the young Navajo, but he quickly disappeared
behind a large rock and was seen no more. Returning to the main brook
with Chiquita, we tied the horses to the willows and began a search
for Vic. I called her by all the pet names to which she was
accustomed, but received no response. I searched over as great a
distance as I dared, with a consciousness that a band of Navajos was
not far distant.

Reluctantly abandoning our search, we were preparing to return to the
train and escort when we descried a large war-party of Indians riding
towards us from the direction of the _cienaga_. It was at once evident
they saw us, for, raising a terrific war-whoop, their irregular mass
broke for us in a furious charge.

Death certainly awaited us if captured, and this thought prompted us
to leave