that all was well with Powell, and that the dots I had seen on his
trail were antelope or wild horses, the less I was able to assure
myself.

Since we had entered the territory we had not seen a hostile Indian,
and we had, therefore, become careless in the extreme, and were wont
to ridicule the stories we had heard of the great numbers of these
vicious marauders that were supposed to haunt the trails, taking
their toll in lives and torture of every white party which fell into
their merciless clutches.

Powell, I knew, was well armed and, further, an experienced Indian
fighter; but I too had lived and fought for years among the Sioux in
the North, and I knew that his chances were small against a party of
cunning trailing Apaches. Finally I could endure the suspense no
longer, and, arming myself with my two Colt revolvers and a carbine,
I strapped two belts of cartridges about me and catching my saddle
horse, started down the trail taken by Powell in the morning.

As soon as I reached comparatively level ground I urged my mount
into a canter and continued this, where the going permitted, until,
close upon dusk, I discovered the point where other tracks joined
those of Powell. They were the tracks of unshod ponies, three of
them, and the ponies had been galloping.

I followed rapidly until, darkness shutting down, I was forced to
await the rising of the moon, and given an opportunity to speculate
on the question of the wisdom of my chase. Possibly I had conjured
up impossible dangers, like some nervous old housewife, and when
I should catch up with Powell would get a good laugh for my pains.