A trusty chief and a dozen braves were instantly ordered to dash into
the pass, bring back the three prisoners, and learn all they could of
the "white head" and his young companion.

Perhaps Steve Harrison would hardly have felt proud of the names which
was given him on the instant. The only feat the Apaches knew of his
performing was the thorough manner in which, according to Red Wolf, he
had tied up those two miners; and so for lack of any other name they
spoke of him as the "Knotted Cord." It was not long before Murray
himself was known in that council by a long word, terribly hard to
pronounce for any but an Apache, but that might be translated "Send
Warning." He had actually earned a "good name" among his old enemies.

Rita and Ni-ha-be were saved any farther scolding. There was no time
for that now, and the chief was more than ever anxious to ask questions
of the "talking leaves," now he was sure of the neighborhood of danger.

Rita was puzzled.

"Ask about the bad pale-faces. Who are they?"

She took her three magazines from the folds of her antelope-skin tunic
with trembling hands, for she was dimly beginning to understand that
they could not tell her of things which were to be. It seemed to her,
in that moment, that she could not read or remember a single word of
English.

The one she opened first was not one which contained the pictures of
the cavalry; but Rita's face instantly brightened, and she handed it to
her father. There were five or six pages, one after the other, each of
which contained a picture, large or small, of men engaged in mining for
gold among the Western sierras.

The chief gravely turned the leaves till he came to a sketch that drew
from him a sharp and sullen "Ugh!"

He had hit it, and there could be no mistake.

There were the sturdy miners, with rifles instead of picks, making a
gallant charge upon an attacking party of Indians.

"No need to talk. Great chief see for himself. No lie. I remember.
Kill some of them. Rest got away. Now they come to strike the
Apaches. Ugh!"

That was a "fancy sketch" by some Eastern artist; but it must have been
nearly true to life when an Apache chief could say he had been one of
the very crowd of Indians who were being shot at in the picture.

"That do now. Talk more by-and-by. Big fight come."

The part of that band which could not fight was hurried forward at the
best speed that could be made, while Many Bears rapidly t