ing was killed. The gentle fathers who built
the church supervised the construction of a water-works. On a higher
ride are three crudely made reservoirs, with ditches leading to the
village. The Piros had no animals save a few sheep, and the water
supply was needed only for domestic uses, as the precipitation
furnished moisture for small crops of beans and corn.

All these towns were wiped out by the Apaches, the red plague of the
desert. First they attacked the outlying forts of the Salines, once
supposed to be well-watered, teeming with game, and fruitful.
Tradition again takes the place of unrecorded history, and tells that
the sweet waters were turned to salt, in punishment of the wife of one
of the dwellers in the city, who proved faithless. In 1675 the last
vestige of aboriginal life was wiped out. For a century the Apaches
held undisputed control of the country; then the Mexican pioneer crept
in. His children are now scattered over the border. The American
ranchman and gold-seeker followed, twisting the stories of a Christian
conquest into strange tales of the seekers of buried treasures.

Through this land Dick had wandered, finding his search but a rainbow
quest. But he kept on by dull inertia, wandering westward to Tularosa,
then down to Fort Grant, and toward the Lava Beds of southwestern
Arizona. In all that arid land there was nothing so withered as his
soul.

Jack, well mounted, with a pack-mule carrying supplies, had picked up
Dick's trail, after it left Tularosa, from a scout out of Fort Grant.

Slim Hoover headed for Fort Grant in his search for Jack. Although the
ranchman had only a brief start of him, Slim lost the track at the
river ford. Knowing Dick had gone into the desert, Jack headed
eastward, while Slim, supposing that Jack was breaking for the border
to escape into a foreign country turned southward.

From the scout who had met Jack and Dick, the Sheriff learned that the
two men were headed for the Lava Beds, which were occupied by hostile
Apaches.

Detachments of the 3d Cavalry were stationed at the fort, with Colonel
Hardie in command of the famous F troop, a band of Indian fighters
never equaled. In turn, they chased Cochise, Victoria, and Geronimo
with their Apache warriors up and down and across the Rio Grande. Hard
pressed, each chieftain, in turn, would flee with his band first to the
Lava Beds, and then across the border into Mexico, where the United
States soldiers c