against the forest
on the eastern side of the valley and nearly opposite our camp. There
they built a row of five fires, which soon became, in the darkness,
the only evidence of their presence.

I caused the sentinels to be increased, and, after dressing the wounds
of the men and removing a bullet from Frank's shoulder, went to bed
without undressing. After some half-hour of silence, Henry said:

"Mr. Duncan."

"Yes; what is it?"

"I'm going to name my pony Chiquita."

"And I'm going to name mine Sancho," added Frank.

"What are you going to do with the animals you brought here?" I asked.

"Turn them in in place of the two we captured," answered Henry.

"All right; for general utility. Good-night."

"Good-night. Thank you, sir."

Half an hour before midnight the sergeant of the guard aroused me to
report that strange noises could be heard from the rear of the camp.

I went to the top of the ridge and listened. A sound like the dragging
of branches over the ground, with occasional pauses, fell upon my
ears. I sent for the elder Cordova, and he listened long, with an ear
close to the ground. His opinion was that the Indians were creeping up
for another attack.

Orders were sent to Sergeant Cunningham to wake the men without noise
and assemble them at the barricades.

A little after midnight the moon rose over the mountains and bathed
the valley in a beautiful light.

As the moon cleared herself from the summits of the range and her rays
fell upon the line of paling camp-fires of the Indians, my field-glass
revealed the fact that the raiders had departed. Ponies and riders
were gone. In the whole length and breadth of the Great Valley not a
living being was in sight outside the limit of our encampment.

An inspection to the rear, to the scene of the late conflict, revealed
the fact that the body of El Ebano and the group of dead warriors
which lay about him at nightfall had been taken away. Their removal
had caused the rushing and creeping sounds we had heard.

Mounting my horse, and accompanied by four men upon the four ponies, I
crossed the valley to the Indian fires, but found nothing there except
the horns, hoofs, and entrails of our captured cattle. The flesh had
probably been packed upon the Cordovas' mule and burro to ration a
raiding party into the valley of the Rio Grande.

A well-defined trail went back through the forest, which Cordova
afterwards assured me led to the town of Pina Blanca.