and that oven makes good cakes. I hope the Indians go all with the
soldiers. I never want to see another."

The boys resumed their flight, but more leisurely. They had no
difficulty in keeping to the trail, but it wound over many a weary mile.
Night comes early in the mountain forest, and before two hours had
passed they were groping their way along the narrow road cut through the
dense brush, and clinging to each other. They were brave lads; but long
fasting, and excitement, and a terrible climax to the most trying day of
their lives, had flung gunpowder among their nerves.

It was midnight when they reached the pueblo. The stars illumined
fitfully the deserted huts, black in the heavy shadows. A coyote was
yapping dismally, owls hooted in the forest. Both boys had a vision of
deep beds and hot suppers on the ranchos of their respective parents,
but they shut their teeth and raided the larder. There they found well-
cured meats and dried fruits, which appeased their mighty appetites;
then they went into Anastacio's hut, and wrapping themselves in the
Mission blankets were soon asleep.

It was Adan who awoke Roldan violently in the morning.

"The soldiers!" he whispered hoarsely.

Roldan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, peered through a rift between
the wall of the hut and the shrunken hide which formed the door. A half
dozen soldiers stood in the plaza, glancing speculatively about.

"I see no trace of them," said one. "I cannot believe they would come
back to this place. Surely it was, as I said, more natural for them to