We had not ridden far from our halting-place, when we arrived at the end
of the great cotton-wood forest. Beyond that, the trace led over open
ground--here and there dotted by groves and "islands" of timber.
Through these we threaded our way--keeping as much as possible among the
trees. Further on, we came upon a gorge--one of the noted _canons_
through which the Huerfano runs. Here the river sweeps down a narrow
channel, with rocky banks that rise on each side into precipitous cliffs
of stupendous height.
To avoid this gorge--impassable for wheeled vehicles--the waggon-trace,
below its entrance, turns off to the right; and we perceived that the
caravan had taken that direction. To get round the heads of the
transverse ravines, that run into the _canon_, a detour must be made of
not less than ten miles in length. Beyond the canon--the trace once
more returns to the stream.
The notes of a military reconnoissance had forewarned me of this
deviation; and, furthermore, that the trace passes over a ridge
altogether destitute of timber. To follow it, therefore, in the broad
light of day, would expose our little party to view. If hostile Indians
should be hanging after the caravan, they would be sure to see us, and
equally certain to make an attack upon us; and from the traces we had
noticed at the night-camp--to say nothing of what Wingrove had seen--we
knew there were Indians in the valley. They might not be hostile; but
the chances were ten to one that they were; and, under this supposition,
it would be imprudent in us to risk crossing the ridge before nightfall.
There were two alternatives: to remain under the timber till after
sunset, and then proceed by night; or to push on into the canon, and
endeavour to make our way along the bed of the stream. So far as we
knew, the path was an untried one; but it might be practicable for
horses. We were now on the most dangerous ground we had yet trodden--
the highway of several hostile tribes, and their favourite
_tenting-place_, when going to, or returning from, their forays against
the half-civilised settlements of New Mexico.
The proximity of the caravan--which we calculated to be about ten miles
ahead of us--only increased our risk. There was but little danger of
the Indians attacking that: the train was too strong, even without the
escort. But the probability was, that a band of Indian horse-thieves
would be skulking on its skirts--not to make an attack upon the caravan
itself but as wolves after a gang of buffalo, to sacrifice the
stragglers. Unless when irritated by some hostile demonstration, these
robbers confine themselves to plundering: but in the case of some,
murder is the usual concomitant of plunder.
The delay of another night was disheartening to all of us--but
especially so to myself, for reasons already known. If we should
succeed in passing through the canon, perhaps on the other side we might
come in sight of the caravan? Cheered on by this prospect, we hesitated
no longer; but hastening forward, entered between the jaws of the
defile. A fearful chasm it was--the rocky walls rising perpendicularly
to the height of many hundreds of feet--presenting a grim _facade_ on
each side of us. The sky above appeared a mere strip of blue; and we
were surrounded by a gloom deeper than that of twilight. The torrent
roared and foamed at our feet; and the trail at times traversed through
the water.
There _was_ a trail, as we soon perceived; and, what was more
significant, one that had recently been travelled! Horses had been over
it; and in several places the rocky pebbles, that should otherwise have
been dry, were wet by the water that had dripped from their fetlocks. A
large troop of horses must have passed just before us. Had the dragoon
escort gone that way? More likely a party of mounted travellers
belonging to the train? And yet this did not strike us as being likely.
We were soon convinced that such was not the case. On riding forward,
we came upon a mud-deposit--at the mouth of one of the transverse
ravines--over which led the trail. The mud exhibited the _tracks_
distinctly and in a more significant light--they were _hoof-tracks_! We
saw that more than a hundred horses had passed up the defile; and not
one _shod_ animal among them! This fact was very significant. They
could not have been troop-horses? Nor yet those of white men? If
ridden, they must have been ridden by Indians? It did not follow that
they were ridden. We were travelling through a region frequented by the
_mustang_. Droves had been seen upon our route, at great distances off:
for these are the shyest and wildest of all animals. A _caballada_ may
have passed through the gorge, on their way to the upper valley? There
was nothing improbable in this. Although the plains are the favourite
habitat of the horse, the _mustang_ of Spanish America is half a
mountain animal; and often penetrates the most difficult passes--
climbing the declivities with hoof as sure as that of a chamois.
Had these horses been ridden? That was the point to be determined, and
how? The sign was not very intelligible, but sufficiently so for our
purpose. The little belt of mud-deposit was only disturbed by a single
line of tracts--crossing it directly from side to side. The animals had
traversed it in single file. Wild horses would have _crowded over it_--
some of them at least kicking out to one side or the other? This I
myself knew. The reasoning appeared conclusive. We had no longer a
doubt that a large party of Indians had gone up the gorge before us, and
not very long before us.
It now became a question of advance or retreat. To halt within the
defile--even had a halting-place offered--would have been perilous above
all things. There was no spot, where we could conceal either ourselves
or our animals. The mounted Indians might be returning down again; and,
finding us in such a snug trap, would have us at their mercy? We did
not think, therefore, of staying where we were. To go back was too
discouraging. We were already half through the canon, and had ridden
over a most difficult path--often fording the stream at great risk, and
climbing over boulders of rock, that imperilled the necks, both of
ourselves and our animals. We determined to keep on.
We were in hopes that the Indians had by this time passed clear through
the gorge, and ridden out into the valley above. In that case there
would be no great risk in our proceeding to the upper end. Our
expectations did not deceive us. We reached the mouth of the chasm--
without having seen other signs of those who had proceeded us, than the
tracks of their horses.
We had heard sounds, however, that had given us some apprehension--the
reports of guns--not as during the early part of the day, in single
shots, but in half-dozens at a time, and once or twice in large
volleys--as if of a scattering _fusillade_! The sounds came from the
direction of the upper valley; and were but faintly heard--so faintly
that we were in doubt, as to whether they were the reports of fire-arms.
The grumbling and rushing of the river hindered us from hearing them
more distinctly. But for the presence of Indians in the valley--about
which we were quite certain--we should perhaps not have noticed the
sounds, or else have taken them for something else. Perhaps we might
have conjectured, that a gang of buffaloes had passed near the train--
leading to a brisk emptying of rifles. But the presence of the Indians
rendered this hypothesis less probable.
We still continued to observe caution. Before emerging from the defile,
we halted near its entrance--Wingrove and myself stealing forward to
reconnoitre. An elevated post--which we obtained upon a shelf of the
rock--gave us a commanding prospect of the upper valley. The sight
restored our confidence: _the caravan was in view_!