and swore to himself, "Of all the blame fools!"

He perceived the picture in all its grewsome details--the two mule-drawn
wagons moving slowly along the trail in the early morning; the band of
hostile Indians suddenly swooping out from some obscure hiding place in
the bluffs; the discovery of their presence; the desperate effort at
escape; the swerving from the open trail in vain hope of reaching the
river and finding protection underneath its banks; the frightened mules
galloping wildly, lashed into frenzy by the man on horseback; the pounding
of the ponies' hoofs, punctuated by the exultant yells of the pursuers.
Again he swore:

"Of all the blame fools!"




Chapter II

The Scene of Tragedy



Whatever might be the nature of the tragedy it would be over with long
before this, and those moving black spots away yonder to the west, that he
had discerned from the bluff, were undoubtedly the departing raiders.
There was nothing left for Keith to do except determine the fate of the
unfortunates, and give their bodies decent burial. That any had escaped,
or yet lived, was altogether unlikely, unless, perchance, women had been
in the party, in which case they would have been borne away prisoners.