, 1883-08-18
Finding the Trail.

mere IN lIle snauOW OF lll5 grim
mountain is a camp Of cavalry-two
hundred men in faded blue uniform;
every face sunburned and bronzed;
every sabre and carbine showing
long use; every horse lifting his head
from the grass at short intervals for
a swift glance up and down the val
ley.
Here, at the foot of the mountain,
the Apache trail, which has been fol-
lowed for three days, has grown
cold. Aye, it has been lost. 1t is as
if the white men had followed a
path which suddenly ended at a
precipice. From this point the red
demon took wings, and the oldest
trailer is at fault.
The men on picket looked up and
down the narrow valley with anxious
faces. Down the valley, a mile
away, a solitary wild horse paws and
pranCes and utters shrill neighs of
wOnderment and alarm. Up the val
ley is long stretch of green grass,
the earth as level as floor, and no
visible sign Of life. The pines and
shrubs and rocks on the mountain
side might hide ten thousand Indi-
ans, but there Is not the slightest
movement to arouse suspicion. 1t is
a still, hot day. Not u bird chirps,
not branch waves. The eye Of the
lynx could detect nothing beyond
the erratic movements Of the lone
wild horse adown the valley, and
the circular fight Of an eagle so high
in air that the proud bird seemed no
larger than a sparrow.
For an hour every man and horse
has looked for signs" but nothing
has been discovered beyond what
has been described. It is a lost trail.
There is something in it to arouse
suspicion as well as annoyance. Ten
miles away the trail was as plain as
country highway, and the Indians
had no suspicion of pursuit. Five
miles back there were signs Of COM
motion. Here, in the center Of the
valley, every footprint suddenly dis
appears.
Look now! 4 sergeant, with griZ-
ely locks and fighting jaw, rides
down the valley, followed by five
troopers. They are to scout for the
lost trail. Every man has unslung
his cNrbine, every saddle-girth has
been frightened, and every man Of
the six looks over the camp AZ he
rides out as if he had been told that
he was bidding a last farewell to
comrades. They ride at a slow gal
lop. Each man casts swift glances
; along the mountain sides to his left
at the green grass under his horses
feet What's that? Afar up the
slope to the right something waves
to and fro for a moment. Higher up
the signal is answered. Across the
valley on the other slope it is
answered again. Down the valley,
a full two miles beyond where the
wild horse now stands like a figure
of stone, and where the valley
sweeps to the right like a sudden
J turn of a river, the signal is caught
l pand two hundred,Apachcs, eager,
excited and mounted, draw back in
' to the fringe at the base Of the
mountain and walt.
The little band gallop straight
= down upon the lone horse. Now
4 they are only half a mile away, and
his breath comes quick and his nos.
trils quiver as he stands and stares al
L the strange spectacle. A little near,
I or and his muscles twinge and quivel
and his sharp-pOinted ears work fls
ter Only eight rods now, and will
, fierce snort of alarm and defiance
J. he rears up, whirls about like a top
0 and Is off down the valley like an
c arrow sent by a strong hand. The
sight may thrill, but it does not in.
u crease the pace Of those who follow
The men see the wild horse fleeing
l. before them, but the sight does no
n hold their eyes more than a second
Is To the right, to the left, above them
down the valley they are looking 70
l. hoof-print, for trampled spot, 70
a broken twig-for a sign, howeve
'r insignificant, to prove that men hav,
passed that way. They find moth
y ing. The signals up the mountain
.e sides were visible only for seconds.
l. After the first wild burst Of speed
e the lone horse looks back. He see
n that he is not being pushed, and HI
RECEIVERS courage. He no longe
y runs in straight line, but he sweep
'r away to the left-swerves away t.
the right, and changes his gait to
So trot. When he hears the shout
d Of pursuit and the louder thuml
Of hoof-beats he will straight
le en- away and show the pursuers
1t gait which nothing but the whirl
IS wind can equal.
LoOkl It Is only a quarter Of
to mile now to the turn in the valley
Is The lone horse has suddenly stoppe'
70 to sniff the air His ears are pointe'
is straight akead, his eyes grow large
s. and take on a frightened look, an
r he half wheels as II he would gallo
hack to those who had seemingl
G pursued. Fivo, eight ten second
oT and with a snort Of alarm he break
.c. into terrific run, takes the extrem